005: Emergency Call

 

The café on Rue Cler had no name above the door. She had never told a single person from work about it. Evelyn had found the place by accident in her second year in Paris, when Leon was a baby. She had pushed the stroller through that black door and Gilles had looked at the baby, looked at her, and put a coffee on the counter without being asked.

She had been coming ever since.

It was the one place in Paris that felt like peace to her. No meetings happened here. No contracts were signed at these tables. Just coffee and relaxation.

Which was exactly why, when she walked in on Thursday morning and saw Aidan Smith sitting at the corner table with a coffee and a newspaper, her first feeling was not surprise.

It was more of a violation.

He looked up when the door opened. He did not look like a man who had been caught doing something wrong. He looked like a man who had been waiting and was quietly relieved that the wait was over.

“Evelyn,” he opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't," Evelyn said.

She hadn't even reached the counter yet.

Aidan set his newspaper down. "I actually asked the hotel concierge the best spot–"

"You are following me, you asked someone to find me." Her voice was low. Controlled. “This is not a coincidence."

Aidan raised his hands up saying in surrender.

"I just wanted to talk to you somewhere that wasn't a boardroom."

"And I want to drink my coffee in peace." She walked to the counter anyway because she refused to let his presence rearrange her morning.

Gilles was already making her usual. She thanked him, paid, and stood at the counter with her back to Aidan for a moment.

She breathed.

Then she picked up her cup, turned around, and walked to her table. She sat down on a table across from him and he brought his coffee to sit down next to her.

Evelyn didn't feel the need to complain anymore, she just sighed deeply.

"Say what you need to say," she told him. "And then stop following me."

Aidan looked at her steadily. “I wouldn't call it following, I'm just trying to talk to you.”

“Those are the same thing when the other person hasn't invited them."

He was quiet for a beat. "Fairs."

She wrapped both hands around her cup. "So talk."

He leaned forward slightly.

"The boy," he said.

There it was.

"His name is Leon," she said. "And he is my son."

"How old is he?"

"Aidan —"

"Evelyn. How old is he?"

She looked at him. "Five" She wanted to lie, but then again, she had no reason to lie about his age.

She watched him do the calculation. Watched his jaw tighten as the numbers settled into place.

"He's mine." Aidan said it quietly. Carefully. Like he was handling something he was afraid would break. "Evelyn. The timing — he’s five years old and I can feel it, I can feel the bond when I look at him."

"You looked at him for five minutes in the lobby, don't be hysterical."

"That's enough to–"

"Leon is not your son. He is my son."

The words came out clean and level and without a single crack.

Aidan went still.

"He's not yours," she said again, holding his gaze without blinking. "I know what you're calculating. I know what you think the timing means. But you're wrong."

"Evelyn–"

"Do you want me to say it a third time? I can."

"I don't believe you."

She laughed. It was a short, hard sound with no warmth in it whatsoever. "You don't believe me." She set her cup down with a small click.

“That's fascinating. Truly. You believed a set of staged photographs and a lying business partner well enough to throw divorce papers at my feet in front of hundreds of people. But now, when I tell you the truth about MY own child, suddenly you need more convincing." She leaned forward slightly. "Your selective scepticism is remarkable, Aidan. Really."

His jaw tightened. “That's not the same thing."

"No, you're right. It’s not." Her voice dropped. It was quieter, which was worse. "Because back then, you had already decided. You didn't want the truth. You wanted the exit." She sat back. "Leon is Daniel's son. Daniel has been there since the beginning. He was there in the hospital. He was there for every first word, every fever, every night I didn't sleep because I was terrified of doing it wrong."

Something flickered in her eyes, just for a second and then it was gone. "You don't get to walk in here after six years and claim something that was never yours to claim."

Aidan stared at her.

She stared back.

“You really do hate me so much now, don't you?”

She glanced at the screen.

Zara.

She almost let it ring. Zara knew better than to call during personal time unless–

She picked up.

"Zara, I'm in the middle of.."

"Ms. Cole." Zara’s voice was wrong. The voice of someone trying very hard to stay calm. "You need to come to the hospital."

The bottom dropped out of Evelyn's chest.

"What happened?" It was not a question. It came out flat because her brain had already started moving, already started doing the cold, fast calculation of emergency.

"It's Leon." Zara"s voice cracked on the name. "He was at the studio with Rosa and I and he just…he slumped, Ms. Cole. He collapsed. The ambulance is already on the way to Necker Hospital, they're–"

Evelyn was already standing.

Her chair scraped back. Her bag was in her hand. She was moving toward the door before Zara finished the sentence.

"I'm coming," she said into the phone. Tell them I'm coming. Tell them about his medical history, tell them it's happened before, they need to know it's happened before, tell them.."

"I already told them," Zara said. "Please hurry, Evelyn."

She hung up.

Aidan was on his feet. She had not noticed him stand.

He was looking at her face with the alert, focused expression of someone who understood that something serious had just happened.

"Evelyn — what's wrong? What happened?"

She looked at him for one second.

Just one.

His face. His eyes. The question in them.

"I have to go," she said.

"Let me–"

But she was already through the door.