Chapter 3: Summer’s POV

“Thank you,” I said, as I went to my knees, looking over Cy. Safe. My baby was safe. 

Adrian called from behind, “Ethan, what are you doing here?” His tone was full of suspicion.

Ethan. Adrian’s half-brother, whom I’d never met. The child of his father’s first marriage. I couldn’t reconcile the way Grace had described him with the man in front of me.

His hair was lighter than Adrian’s, walnut instead of black, but he had the Whitmore eyes. His mouth tilted into a smile as Adrian approached, laugh lines creased at the corners of his mouth.

Ethan was the wolf at Adrian’s back. After his mother’s death, and his father’s hasty remarriage, he had never warmed to Adrian or Grace, in fact his hostility towards them was legendary.

From different continents, the brothers competed like bitter enemies. Adrian in North America, Ethan in Europe, and even an ocean couldn’t wash away the hatred my ex-husband felt for his half-brother.

Not with the way Whitmore Group’s executives talked about him. 

On one occasion, I made a rare visit to the office to bring Adrian a change of clothes. I overheard a couple of mid-level managers chatting about Ethan in the canteen.

“We all know what’s coming,” one said. “That boy's going to come over here and push Whitmore off his throne.”

“He’s not a boy anymore,” said the secretary to the COO. “The man’s a unit, on top of bringing a 20 million dollar profit increase last year.” Here, she fanned herself suggestively.

“Not that we’ll see any of it.” A third remarked.

With rumors like that going around, it was no wonder Adrian was paranoid. Always on edge, working all-nighters to keep up with Ethan’s growing reputation…

And now the brothers glared at one another with me and Cy caught in the middle. I stood, beyond frustrated with my ex’s ego.

“If it weren’t for him, your son would be dead!” I spat at Adrian.

He seemed to recall that our child had nearly died mere moments ago. Crouching beside us, he held out his hands for Cyan.

But my son ignored him, snuggling into Ethan’s arms as though he’d known him his whole life. No tears. No flailing. He was calm. When Adrian tried to take him, he struggled,  swatting his father’s hands away.

Ethan smiled, holding Cyan tighter, double-meaning lacing his words, “Of course I came back to the U.S. for your wedding, Dear Brother. After all these years, you never held a ceremony. The outside world still thinks you’re single, you know.”

Adrian’s face morphed into open hostility, while mine heated.

Our marriage was never supposed to be a secret, but that hadn’t stopped him from never wearing his ring to the office, from always keeping a foot of distance between us in public.

Pity and obligation was all there ever was between us. I saw that now.

Sabrina walked forward, holding Lily. The toddler was unharmed. I didn’t want her to be hurt, yet I couldn’t forgive Adrian for saving her and not Cy.

“Hello, I’m Sabrina, Adrian’s good friend. This is my daughter Lily. She has cancer… Adrian’s granting her wish to see me in a wedding dress. That’s why we’re having the ceremony.” As she spoke, fat tears spilled onto her cheeks.

Adrian rose and went to her, folding her and Lily into his arms.

Ethan gave me the strangest look, as though demanding I speak up and defend myself, but Cy was reaching for me, and I could no longer bear to watch Adrian lavishing affection on them like our family had never existed.

I picked up my son and walked away, finding Jennifer standing with three slushies in giant souvenir cups.

“We’re leaving.” I said.

“Summer,” Adrian called to my back.

I kept walking until we reached the car.

He didn’t care about us. Adrian had never held me like that, and he had prioritized a child he barely knew over our son. He loved them. Somehow, despite five years of marriage, he loved them.

On the drive to Jennifer’s house, my friend railed at Adrian.

“That piece of shit.” she growled as she pressed harder on the gas.

“Easy.” I said, “Cy’s in the car.” His head lolled in the seat. The stress of those few heartstopping moments on the track drained all of his energy.

“Sorry.” Jen eased up and the needle crawled back to a safe speed. “I just—I can’t believe he would leave him like that.”

I looked down at my hands, rough and unmanicured. Between housework and painting, they always looked shabby. I had no words to defend Adrian. Didn’t want to.

Jen grabbed my hand and squeezed. “It’s going to be okay. I promise I’ll get you through this.”

Soon we pulled into her neighborhood. Staying at Jen’s modern three-bedroom was temporary. Once I set up things at the place my parents left me… I should never have left it vacant. In retrospect, there were so many things I could have prepared to make this easier for my son. 

For now, Jennifer’s place was familiar. In fact, Cy seemed to realize where he was as I lifted him out of the backseat.

“Down.” He mouthed. I set him on the walkway. 

He dashed up the steps and keyed the security code into the pad on the door, then made a beeline for the living room, where Jen’s cat, Morph, mewled a greeting.

Jennifer ordered takeout that night.

As I lifted lids off the containers, I scooped Cy’s favorites onto a paper plate. We’d make as few dishes as possible while we were here, and I’d make sure Jen’s place stayed as spotless as it always was. Cyan stood on tiptoe to see the spread I was making him, then reached to take the plate.

“Beans!” he said, grabbing for the edamame I had shelled for him. I lowered the plate into his hands. “Walk slowly and be careful. Sit at the table.”

“Slow. Table,” he responded. Then set off.

Jen walked up to the counter and hugged me. “He’s okay.”

“I came so close to losing him,” I said. My chest ached and the memory of him sitting on the tracks played over and over in my head. 

“He’s a strong kid,” she said, squeezing me again. “Gets it from his mom.”

We spent the weekend playing board games and watching Cy’s favorite cartoons. At one point, Jen threw her head back on the couch. “I swear we’ve watched this same episode five times.”

I laughed, so used to the loop of never-ending kid’s entertainment that I hadn’t even noticed. 

On Monday, Jen worked from home, while I borrowed her car to take Cy to school.

“I promise I’ll be careful.”

She waved me off. “No sweat. That’s what insurance is for. You guys are worth more than any car.”

Joy and pain seized my heart. It had been so long since anyone had shown affection for me. There was hope for us. Me and Cy. We could build a new family.

School drop-off went off without a hitch. It wasn’t actually school, but I called it that to make things easier when talking to people.

The ABA clinic helped Cyan learn skills, and with any luck, he would go to school next year. Jen and I had already drafted his IEP. 

On the way back, I made a u-turn when I caught a flash of blue in the corner of my eye. I parked on the shoulder, glancing around as other cars whizzed by.

My hazards weren’t on, and no one seemed concerned with the crazy lady crouched by the road, digging in the weeds.

Later, I cradled the flowers cautiously as I nudged Jen’s doorbell with my elbow. She answered with a confused expression, before noticing what I held.

“Hey, are those—”

“Blue Butterfly Delphiniums.” I beamed as she sidestepped to let me in. “I need to get them into a pot with some water. Do you have soil?”

We rushed around like a couple of kids for a few minutes until my find was safely nestled in its new home, an old terracotta pot Jen had evicted a dead monkey grass from. 

“There,” I said, stepping back. “Cy’s going to be so excited, I can’t believe they bloomed so late in the year.” The flowers were special to us. 

A year ago, Cyan barely talked at all. After his diagnosis and months of therapy, one day he brought me an old gardening book and pointed to a picture of this plant, saying, “Boo Buttafy.”

At 2:30, I went back out to pick up Cy, and the Delphiniums buckled into the passenger seat.

At the door, Cyan’s behavioral tech met me. “Mrs. Whitmore, did Cy forget something?” she asked.

My heart sank. “What do you mean?”

“He and his dad left about ten minutes ago.”