ログインTHIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW ONE WEEK LATERThe morning felt heavier than usual.The small overnight bag lay open on the bed. Carefully folded clothes. A soft toy. Ethan’s favorite blue sweater even though the hospital rooms were always warm. Karline packed methodically, the way she had learned to do over the past years. practical, organized and steady.Ethan stood near the door at first.Then he realized.And the realization broke him.“Mumma, I don’t wanna go, no no no,” he said, his voice already shaking.Karline turned immediately and knelt in front of him. His eyes were glossy, lips trembling in a way that shattered her composure every single time.She pulled him into her arms.“Baby, it’s very important for you. Try to understand, dear,” she said gently, brushing his hair back.He buried his face into her shoulder but shook his head violently.“Mumma it’s so bad there. Miss Rosie don’t let me play, and I feel so so bad… they they give me so many needles in my arms… it’s so bad.”
THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEWBy the time they walked back from the pond, the air around the house had shifted into that warm, golden calm that comes just before evening. The smell of grilled meat lingered thick and comforting. Isabella noticed them first.Her sharp mother’s eyes took in everything in a single glance, the way Ethan was holding Reid’s hand, the quiet in Karline’s face, the slight redness around Reid’s eyes that he clearly hadn’t bothered to hide.She didn’t ask questions.Instead, she smiled warmly.“You helped a lot with the grilling,” Isabella said, wiping her hands on her apron. “If you want, you can stay for lunch. James too.”James, who was currently attempting to balance two plates while Mia loudly gave unnecessary instructions, looked up immediately.“Yes, please,” James said before remembering to look polite. “I mean... if it’s not trouble.”Reid shifted slightly, instinctively cautious.“I don’t want to cause any problems,” he said evenly. The words were respect
THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW Karline called him gently. “Ethan…” He turned from where he had been poking at the grass and walked toward her without protest. There was laziness in his eyes. He slipped easily into her arms when she opened them, settling against her chest as he had done since he was small. She kissed his hair. “Ethan dear… mommy is going to tell something very important to my little baby today.” He leaned back slightly to look at her face. “What’s that, mommy?” Her fingers brushed over his cheek, lingering there a moment longer than usual. “You know what father means? What papa means?” His face lit up immediately. “Nonno!” A faint smile curved her lips. “Yes, baby. Nonno is papa… but he is my father.My papa.” Ethan blinked, processing. “Ohhh…” he said slowly, turning his head slightly. “He’s not my papa, mommy?” Karline shook her head gently. “No, sweetheart.” He grew thoughtful. Not upset. Just thinking. “Do you want to know who you
THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW The smoke from the grill drifted lazily into the warm afternoon air when Karline finally moved.Karline had been watching them longer than she intended.Something inside her had been turning quietly all morning.She stepped down from the porch and walked toward him.“Reid.”He looked up immediately.Not distracted. Not delayed.Just attentive.“Yes?”“I need to talk to you.”The words weren’t sharp.But they weren’t light either.Reid straightened instinctively, handing the tongs back to Matteo without question. Matteo glanced between them once but said nothing.Ethan was still running in circles, chasing something invisible.Karline turned slightly and called softly, “Ethan, baby, come here.”He came without hesitation, small feet pattering across dry soil. She bent and lifted him into her arms, pressing a brief kiss to his hair. He wrapped his arms around her neck lazily.She looked at Reid again.“Not here.”He understood immediately.He nodded once. “Ok
THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW Karline who was once looking at the scene. For a moment, she didn’t recognize the man she was looking at right now. Reid’s once-white shirt was no longer white. There were faint streaks of soil along the side, darker smudges near his elbow where he had clearly wiped sweat or leaned against something dusty. His jeans were creased, stained lightly at the knees. A thin line of dirt marked his forearm. He was holding a pair of metal tongs like someone who had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but was trying very hard not to show it. Matteo stood beside him, barking short instructions. “Not like that,” Matteo muttered, flipping a piece of meat with precision. “Turn it gently. You’ll dry it out.” Reid adjusted his grip without protest. “Like this?” he asked, carefully copying the motion. Matteo gave a curt nod. “Hmm.” That was approval, in Matteo language. Karline leaned slightly against the porch pillar, unnoticed. This… this version of him was
THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW Ethan had been running without rhythm or restraint for nearly an hour, kicking the ball, chasing shadows, laughing at nothing and everything. Eventually, his tiny legs began to protest. He slowed. Then stopped. Then bent down into an awkward squat, small hands resting on his knees as if he were an exhausted old man reconsidering life choices. Reid, who had been pretending to lose for the fifteenth time, noticed immediately. “Tired already?” he asked lightly, walking closer. Ethan didn’t answer at first. He just puffed his cheeks dramatically. “My legs are tired,” he declared. Reid couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. There was something painfully innocent about the way the child narrated his exhaustion like a personal betrayal. “Tired, huh?” Reid crouched down in front of him. Ethan nodded solemnly. Without another word, Reid slipped one arm under the boy’s knees and the other around his back, lifting him carefully. He did







