Chapter 21 He Didn't Seem Happy at All
Sitting in his car, Michael let his thoughts drift back.
As a child, he had idolized Nathan. When I grow up, I want to be exactly like him, he had promised himself.
As time passed, the angry mobs stopped coming to their house. Eventually, everyone moved on. Everyone except Nathan. He was the only person who still visited them once or twice a year, always bringing groceries and small gifts for Michael and his grandmother.
At first, Michael assumed Nathan was just checking in to see if George had secretly contacted them.
Once, when Michael was thirteen, his grandmother had fallen severely ill in the middle of the night. With no car and no money for an ambulance, the terrified teenager had panicked and called the only adult he knew.
Nathan had arrived in less than thirty minutes. He drove them to the emergency room, paid the deposit, and stayed until the old woman was stabilized.
Sitting in the stark hospital waiting room, Michael had felt a crushing wave of guilt. He had resolved to finally be honest. He walked over to where Nathan was sitting, stood stiffly in front of him, and confessed in a low voice, “Mr. Archer… I really don’t know where my dad is. He’s never contacted us. Maybe he drove off a cliff and died. You aren’t going to get any news from me. You don’t have to keep coming around.”
Unexpectedly, Nathan had just smiled faintly. He reached out, gently squeezed Michael’s shoulder, and said softly, “I know.”
After that night, Michael had been terrified that Nathan would stop coming. If he did, there would be no one left in the world who cared whether Michael and his grandmother lived or died.
But Nathan hadn’t stopped. He kept visiting.
When Michael’s grandmother finally passed away a few years later, it was Nathan who helped him arrange and pay for the funeral.
Standing by the cheap coffin, Michael had tried to thank him.
Nathan had merely lowered his head, a grim, terribly weary smile touching his lips. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had a lot of practice arranging funerals lately.”
As Michael grew older, he watched Nathan become increasingly silent, resolute, and deeply subdued. Beneath the brilliant academic success, there was an ocean of sorrow.
Even as a teenager, Michael had realized: This man isn’t happy at all.
His gratitude toward Nathan was boundless. After getting into college, Michael immediately applied for student loans and worked three jobs so he wouldn’t have to rely on Nathan’s money anymore. He wanted to lighten his benefactor’s burden.
But the day he called to proudly announce he had secured a full scholarship and didn’t need the financial support, Nathan had simply congratulated him, hung up, and cut off all contact.
Nathan was the kind of man who saved a life, ensured it was stable, and then vanished without a trace, never expecting a single word of thanks in return.
But Michael had never forgotten him.
Nathan’s Bentley pulled up outside a warm, dimly lit restaurant.
Nathan and Chloe got out and stood by the entrance, waiting for Michael to park his car and join them.
Once seated inside, Nathan handed the menu to Chloe first.
She ordered a sirloin steak with fries and a Caesar salad, leaving the rest to Nathan. He smoothly added two more sides and handed the menu across the table. “Michael, see what else you’d like.”
Michael took it. “Is that all you’re having? I’ll order a few more mains. It’s my treat.”
“Don’t order too much. It’s wasteful if we can’t finish it,” Nathan said gently.
Michael nodded, though he deliberately pointed out several of the most expensive items on the menu to the waiter. He knew a single dinner couldn’t repay a fraction of what Nathan had done for him, but he needed to show his appreciation somehow.
While they waited, Chloe leaned over and whispered to Nathan, “Don’t you need to go home and cook for your son?”
Though Nathan had been coming to her apartment every afternoon to make sure she was fed, he always left strictly at nine to check on his son. Chloe had complicated, ugly feelings about Nathan’s new wife, and absolutely refused to bring her up, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking about the boy.
“He’s joining us for dinner,” Nathan replied quietly.
Chloe froze. Her stomach dropped.
“Oh,” she murmured, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. She quickly grabbed the menu back. “Then… we should add a few more things he likes.”
Nathan reached out, covering her hand with his to stop her. “No need. This is plenty for four people.”
“Alright.” Chloe pulled her hand out from under his, setting the menu down.
Michael, who had been watching them intently, finally couldn’t hold back his burning question. “Mr. Archer… why did you stop contacting me? I’ve been looking for you for years.”
Nathan smiled faintly. “You were independent, Michael. You didn’t need me anymore. I never did it expecting repayment; I just did it because you were a good kid who needed a break.”
“But I wanted to thank you properly!” Michael insisted, his voice urgent. “You changed the entire course of my life.”
“If you really insist on repaying me,” Nathan said softly, “then find a child who has nothing, and sponsor their education. Pass the kindness forward. That’s the only thanks I want.”
Michael swallowed hard. “I will. I promise you.”
“Actually, there is a much faster way to repay him right now,” Chloe chimed in, forcing a bright smile to break the heavy tension. “Look at me. I’m your newest intern. Take incredibly good care of me at work, and consider your debt paid.”
Nathan nodded in immediate agreement. “Exactly. Please look out for her, Michael. She’s… still getting used to how modern society operates.”
“You have my word,” Michael said firmly.
Nathan’s casual request carried ten thousand times more weight than a direct order from the CEO. Michael was a ruthless, highly sought-after executive who regularly chewed out his own bosses, but he would have thrown himself in front of traffic if Nathan Archer asked him to.
As Michael watched the profound, protective tenderness in Nathan’s eyes whenever he looked at Chloe, a warm smile spread across his face.
“I have to ask,” Michael said softly. “Is Miss Chloe the wife you’ve been waiting for all this time?”
Chloe’s breath hitched. A hot flush violently stained her cheeks.
Beside her, Nathan didn’t flinch. He looked Michael dead in the eye and quietly affirmed, “Yes.”
“I am truly, incredibly happy for you,” Michael said, his voice thick with genuine emotion.
Realizing that Michael had completely misunderstood the current state of their relationship, Chloe felt a spike of pure panic. She desperately needed to change the subject.
“Since everyone is so happy tonight, we should order beer!” she blurted out.
“Great idea,” Michael agreed easily. “What kind do you want?”
“I’ll pass,” Nathan declined politely. “I still have to drive, and I have work to finish tonight.”
“Alright.” Michael looked mildly disappointed, then turned to Chloe. “What about you?”
“I’ll have one,” Chloe said defiantly.
Nathan glanced at her. He didn’t say a word, but his dark eyes narrowed slightly.
Chloe felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. Back in the day, Nathan had always hated it when she drank, primarily because she was a terrible, reckless drunk.
But he wasn’t her husband anymore. He had absolutely no right to control her! She lifted her chin, ready to order a pint just to spite him.
But then the restaurant door opened, and a boy with a heavy backpack hurried inside.
He spotted their table and jogged over, his face flushed from the cold. “Hi! Sorry I’m late. I’m Mason.”
His voice was clear, bright, and carried the unmistakable, easy confidence of a kid who had been raised with absolute love and security.
Chloe had mentally prepared herself a thousand times for the moment she would meet Nathan’s son. She had braced herself to feel bitter, to feel resentful, to hate the living proof that her husband had moved on.
But as she looked up at the boy, she found herself completely at a loss.
“Put your bag down, grab a seat,” Nathan said, his voice dropping into a register of pure, relaxed paternal warmth.
Chloe clenched her fists under the table. She took a deep, jagged breath, pressing her lips together so hard they turned white, desperately forcing back the bitter acid rising in her throat.
She forced the corners of her mouth up. “Hello. I’m Chloe.”
“Nice to meet you, Chloe,” Mason smiled cheerfully.
He turned to Michael. “Hello, sir.”
Michael shook the boy’s hand, masking his utter shock.
He hadn’t expected Nathan to have a son. And looking at the boy’s age, he clearly wasn’t Chloe’s. He didn’t let his confusion show, simply saying, “It’s my treat tonight, Mason. Order whatever you want to drink.”
“No need, thank you!” Mason smiled politely. “I’m good with water.”
“Eat quickly. You still have your advanced English prep class later,” Nathan said, casually handing the boy a rolled napkin with silverware.
“I know, I know,” Mason grinned, taking it.
Chloe sat in absolute silence, watching the boy.
He looked about fourteen. He had fair skin, sharp, handsome features, and dark, intelligent eyes. His entire demeanor bore a terrifyingly strong resemblance to Nathan’s. He was polite, gentle, and carried himself with an effortless grace.
Throughout the meal, Mason didn’t just serve himself—he routinely pushed the best cuts of meat toward Nathan’s plate. Nathan was equally attentive, casually swapping out the boy’s empty water glass without a word. The father and son shared a warm, completely synchronized rhythm, entirely free of the awkward, sullen tension most teenage boys had with their parents.
At one point, Mason noticed Chloe staring at him.
He didn’t look away. Instead, he lifted his head and gave her a brilliant, friendly smile.
Chloe felt a knife twist directly into her heart.
That smile was identical to the one the young Nathan used to give her. Even the slight, uneven curve of his lips was exactly the same.
Across the table, Michael quietly observed the three of them.
He was deeply unsettled. He had always believed Nathan was a tragic, desperately loyal man who had spent his entire life waiting for his missing wife. The sheer depth of Nathan’s grief back then had been obvious even to an eight-year-old boy.
How had he ended up with a teenage son and another woman?
Michael took a slow sip of his water, his mind flashing back to the single memory of Nathan Archer that he had never been able to forget.