Chapter 39: Small things
Thursday became a rhythm.
4pm. Ethan’s car. Liam running out with his backpack half-zipped.
Emily stopped watching from the window after week two.
It hurt less that way.
She threw herself into the winter collection instead. Twelve-hour days. Fabric swatches. Fittings.
Marcus noticed first.
“You look tired,” he said, handing her coffee.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re working like you’re trying to outrun something.”
Emily took the coffee. “Maybe I am.”
Marcus didn’t push.
He just stayed late with her.
Ethan texted updates. Never long.
Pizza night. He beat me at Mario Kart.
He asked about you. Told him you’re making the new coats.
Home safe. He’s asleep.
Emily replied sometimes. Thanks.
Other times she didn’t.
But she never deleted them.
The first real test came on a rainy Friday.
Liam called from Ethan’s. 6:42pm.
“Mommy?”
Emily’s heart dropped. “Baby? What’s wrong?”
“I fell,” he said, voice small. “At the park. My knee hurts.”
Ethan was on in the background. “It’s not bad. Just a scrape. I cleaned it. But he wants you.”
Emily was already grabbing her coat. “I’m coming.”
“Don’t,” Ethan said quickly. “We’re ten minutes from you. I can bring him over.”
Emily hesitated. “Okay.”
She opened the door twelve minutes later.
Liam had a bandage on his knee and was clutching Ethan’s sleeve.
Ethan looked wrecked. “I’m sorry. I turned for one second
“Stop,” Emily said. She knelt. “Hey. Let me see.”
Liam lifted his leg. The scrape was shallow. Clean.
“You’re okay,” Emily said, brushing his hair back. “Brave boy.”
Liam nodded, then threw his arms around her neck.
Ethan stood back, hands in his pockets.
When Liam calmed down, Emily stood. “Thank you for bringing him.”
“I should have called sooner.”
“You did fine.”
Ethan blinked. “Really?”
Emily nodded. “Really.”
Ethan exhaled. “Can I… come in for five? Just to make sure he’s settled.”
Emily stepped aside.
They sat on the floor while Liam showed Ethan his new Lego set.
At 8pm, Ethan stood. “I should go.”
Emily walked him to the door.
He stopped. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“You didn’t,” Emily said. “Accidents happen.”
Ethan looked at her like he didn’t believe he deserved that.
“Goodnight, Ethan.”
“Goodnight, Emily.”
The next morning there was a small package on her doorstep.
Kids’ bandages. Dinosaur print. A note in Ethan’s handwriting.
For the extra special scrapes. – E
Emily smiled before she could stop herself.
Work picked up.
The merger board wanted a joint appearance. Photos. Interviews.
Emily said yes because saying no would look petty.
The photographer positioned them in front of the new flagship store.
“Closer,” he said. “Like you’re a team.”
Emily shifted. Ethan mirrored her.
Their shoulders touched.
The flash went off.
After, a reporter asked, “How does it feel working together again after everything?”
Emily answered first. “Professional. We’re focused on the company.”
Ethan added, “And on doing right by the people who work here.”
It was the right answer.
In the car after, neither spoke for a while.
Then Ethan said, “You looked good out there.”
Emily looked out the window. “You too.”
Another pause.
“Lunch?” Ethan asked. “Not a date. Just… food. I haven’t eaten.”
Emily checked her phone. “I have thirty minutes.”
They went to a deli two blocks down.
They talked about fabric costs. About Liam’s teacher. About nothing.
When Emily’s timer buzzed, she stood. “I have to go.”
Ethan nodded. “Thanks. For lunch.”
Emily walked out.
She didn’t feel the need to run.
Saturday, Ethan asked if he could take Liam to the children’s museum.
Emily said yes.
They were gone four hours.
When they got back, Liam was buzzing. “Mommy! We built a bridge! And Dad let me press all the buttons!”
Emily looked at Ethan over Liam’s head.
Ethan shrugged. “He’s good at bridges.”
Later, after Liam was in bed, Emily found a drawing on the fridge.
Stick figures. One tall, one small, one with long hair.
Under it, in wobbly letters: Me and Dad and Mommy.
Emily stared at it for a long time.
She didn’t take it down.
The following week, Clara came over.
She saw the drawing immediately.
“You’re not going to comment on that?” Clara asked.
“What is there to comment on?” Emily said.
“That you let him in. That you’re letting yourself breathe again.”
Emily poured wine. “I’m being practical.”
“Bullshit,” Clara said. “You’re being human.”
Emily didn’t argue.
Ava’s sentencing appeal was denied.
The news ran for one day and then died.
Emily didn’t read the articles.
Ethan did. He called her that night.
“It’s over,” he said.
“I know.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Emily said. “Are you?”
A long pause. “I’m trying to be.”
Emily hung up and sat in the dark.
The board meeting came.
They presented the Q4 forecast together.
No mistakes. No tension.
After, the chairman pulled Emily aside. “You two are handling this well.”
Emily nodded. “We have to.”
He smiled. “For the company.”
“For Liam,” Emily said before she could stop herself.
The chairman’s smile softened. “That too.”
That night Ethan texted: Can we talk? Not about Liam. About us.
Emily stared at it for an hour.
She typed: Tomorrow. After drop-off.
Okay.
They met at a coffee shop. Neutral. Public.
Ethan was already there. No suit. Just a sweater.
Emily sat down. “What is it?”
Ethan ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
“That I don’t think about you,” he continued. “That I don’t regret every single day I chose wrong. That I don’t want a chance to do it right.”
Emily kept her face neutral. “Ethan.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me today,” he said. “I’m asking if there’s any part of you that wants to try.”
Emily looked at her hands.
She thought about the phone call. About the dragon baker. About the bandages. About the drawing on her fridge.
“There’s a part,” she said quietly.
Ethan’s breath caught.
“But it’s small,” Emily added. “And it’s scared. And it doesn’t trust easily.”
“I know,” Ethan said. “I don’t expect you to trust me. I expect to earn it.”
Emily looked up. “How?”
“By showing up,” Ethan said. “Every day. Without asking for anything back.”
Emily nodded once. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. We try. Slow. No pressure. No promises.”
Ethan smiled. Small. Real. “Slow. I can do slow.”
They sat there for ten more minutes. Not talking. Just existing in the same space without it hurting.
When Emily got home, Liam was building a fort.
“Where were you?” he asked.
“Having coffee with Mr. Ethan.”
Liam paused. “Is he still Mr. Ethan?”
Emily knelt beside him. “What do you want to call him?”
Liam thought. “Dad works.”
Emily’s chest squeezed. “Dad works.”
Liam grinned and went back to his fort.
The next few weeks were quiet in the way that mattered.
Thursday pickups. Sunday dinners.
Ethan never pushed. Never asked for more.
He just showed up.
He helped with homework. He fixed a leaky faucet without being asked.
He sent Emily fabric links at 2am with the note Thought of your new line.
Emily started replying with more than one word.
Marcus noticed again.
“You’re different,” he said.
“How?”
“Softer,” Marcus said. “Not weak. Just… less guarded.”
Emily didn’t deny it.
One evening in March, Ethan came to drop Liam off and stayed for dinner.
Pasta. Nothing fancy.
Liam chattered the whole time.
After, Ethan did dishes while Emily put Liam to bed.
When she came back down, Ethan was drying the last plate.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Emily said.
“I wanted to,” Ethan said.
They stood in the kitchen. The house quiet.
Ethan looked at her. “Can I ask you something?”
Emily nodded.
“Do you ever think about what could have been? If I hadn’t—”
“Don’t,” Emily said. “We can’t live there.”
Ethan nodded. “You’re right.”
He moved to leave.
At the door he stopped. “Emily.”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad we’re here.”
Emily’s throat tightened. “Me too.”
He left.
Emily locked the door and leaned against it.
The crack in the wall was bigger now.
Not broken. Just open.
And through it, light was coming in.
On Friday, Liam had a fever.
Emily called Ethan first.
He was there in twenty minutes. With soup and a thermometer.
They took turns through the night.
At 4am, Ethan was holding a sleeping Liam while Emily dozed in the chair.
When she woke, Ethan was still there.
“You didn’t have to stay,” she whispered.
“I know,” Ethan said. “I wanted to.”
Emily nodded.
She didn’t say thank you.
She didn’t need to.
The next day, the fever broke.
Liam was fine.
Ethan made coffee.
Emily made toast.
They ate in the kitchen in comfortable silence.
When Ethan left, he kissed Liam’s forehead.
Then, before he walked out, he looked at Emily.
“See you Thursday?”
Emily smiled. Small. “See you Thursday.”
The door closed.
Emily stood in her kitchen and realized she wasn’t afraid of what came next.
Not anymore.
She walked to the fridge.
Added another drawing. This one from Liam.
Three stick figures. Holding hands.
She stepped back.
It looked like a family.
And for the first time, that didn’t scare her.