Chapter 3 - THE REVELATION
Ethan stepped back, his mask slipping for a fraction of a second. He looked at Noah, who was beginning to stir, his tiny face scrunching up in anticipation of a meal.
“He’s... he’s small,” Ethan muttered.
“He was early,” Claire said, her voice devoid of any emotion. “And he was alone. Just like I was.”
The words were a direct strike. Diane moved forward, placing a hand on Claire’s arm. “Claire, honey, come into the study. We have a fire going. We can talk there.”
“I’d rather stay here,” Claire said, looking at the entire family. She felt a surge of strength. She wasn't the broken woman she had been in that hospital room. She was a mother, and she was the only person in this room who knew the true cost of their family’s success.
“Ethan,” Robert Caldwell said, his voice deep and booming from the fireplace. “Why is your wife here, and why is she holding your son? And why does it feel like I’m seeing my grandson for the first time?”
Ethan gripped his flute, the knuckles turning white. “It’s been a complicated year, Dad.”
“Complicated doesn't begin to cover it,” Luke interjected. “Ethan hasn't called her in months. He hasn't seen the baby. He’s been pretending she’s in a spa in Switzerland while she’s been struggling to pay rent in Seattle.”
The room erupted in gasps. Jenna, Ethan’s sister, dropped a dessert plate. It shattered on the marble, the sound signaling the end of the Caldwells’ perfectly curated Christmas.
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Ethan looked at Claire, his eyes flashing with a mix of fury and something that looked dangerously like panic. “Claire, let's go outside. We can talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Ethan,” Claire said. She leaned down and kissed Noah’s forehead, who had just let out a soft, hungry whimper. “I came here to show you that we’re doing fine without you. I didn't need your money, and I certainly don't need your apologies.”
