CHAPTER 5—THREE YEARS LATER,THE RETURN

Three years passed.

Three years since Heathrow, since that night we ate soup on the floor, since Leo was born crying loud.

Now London knew my name, but not my face, Atelier S was everywhere, Paris, Milan, Tokyo, small brand that became big, S still ghost, no photo, no interview.

Leo was almost three, grey eyes, quiet, he loved to sit under my sewing table and watch the fabric fall.

Mama, he said one morning, why do we have no photo on wall.

Because mama is hiding, I said, but not for long.

That same morning, email came, subject line Blackwood Global Wants Meeting.

I opened it, hands cold.

Blackwood Global is falling, board wrote, we need Atelier S to save our Paris show, we will pay any price, please come to New York, boardroom, tomorrow nine AM.

Rhys read it over my shoulder.

They do not know it is you, he said, they think S is a man.

They will know tomorrow, I said.

I booked two tickets, one for me, one for Leo, first time in three years, back to New York.

At night, I opened velvet box again, ultrasound photo from when he was four weeks, and a paper Julian kept for three years, Seraphina fake report.

I put both in my bag.

JFK, same airport where I cried alone three years ago, now I walked with Leo holding my hand, people looked, because I wore black, simple, strong.

Car to Manhattan, Blackwood tower, same building where I signed divorce.

Boardroom, fortieth floor, glass and steel.

I walked in, Leo with Rhys outside in lobby, he had a small car toy.

Twelve men in suits, and one man at the head of the table, Lorenzo.

He looked older, tired, suit perfect but eyes empty.

He did not look up at first, he looked at his papers.

We are waiting for Atelier S, someone said, where is he.

I stood at the door.

S is here, I said.

All heads turned.

Lorenzo looked up.

His face, I will never forget his face.

He stood up, slow, chair falling behind.

Aria, he whispered, like he saw a ghost.

Hello Lorenzo, I said, my voice clear, not shaking now.

You, he said, you are S.

Yes, I said, I am S, I was always S, you just never asked.

Silence in room, twelve men looking at me and him.

You left, he said, you took nothing, you disappeared.

I took something, I said, I took my life back.

He walked closer, grey eyes on me, same grey eyes as Leo.

You look different, he said.

I am different, I said.

He looked at my bag, at my hand, where is your ring, he asked.

I left it on your table three years ago, I said, remember.

He swallowed, hard.

I heard you had a baby, he said, quiet, board told me, Atelier S founder has a son, three years old, is it.

My blood went cold, my hand tight on my bag.

Who told you that, I asked.

Rhys outside, he said, my assistant saw him in lobby with a boy, grey eyes, grey eyes like mine.

At that exact second, door opened, Leo ran in, small, fast, toy car in hand.

Mama, he said, car broke.

He stopped, he saw Lorenzo.

Lorenzo looked down at Leo, Leo looked up at Lorenzo, same grey eyes, same face, small and big.

Leo tilted his head.

Mama, who is that man, he asked, why is he looking at me like that.

My heart stopped, paper with fake report in my bag felt heavy, velvet box felt heavy, three years of secret felt heavy.

Rhys came running behind Leo, sorry, he said, he ran fast.

Lorenzo did not move, did not blink, he looked at Leo, then at me, then at Leo again.

Aria, he said, voice shaking now, how old is he, how old is your son.

I held Leo close, my hands around his small shoulders.

Two, I said, almost three years old.

Three, Lorenzo repeated, three, and we divorced three years ago.

Silence, heavy silence, twelve men did not breathe.

Leo looked at me, mama, he said, I am scared.

I picked him up, he put his head on my shoulder.

Do not be scared, I whispered, mama is here.

Lorenzo stepped closer, one more step, hand shaking.

Aria, he asked, low voice, only for me to hear, is he mine, is Leo mine.