Chapter Four - The Question She Couldn’t Answer

Mia stared at her son.

For one terrible second, the room seemed to shrink around them.

Noah was waiting.

Not impatiently.

Not suspiciously.

Just waiting.

Children didn’t always understand the weight of the questions they asked.

Sometimes they simply wanted the truth.

Mia looked down at his small face.

The dark eyes.

The familiar shape of his mouth.

The tiny crease between his brows whenever he was confused.

She had spent seven years refusing to compare him to Alexander.

Tonight, the comparison was impossible to ignore.

“Why would you ask me that?” she whispered.

Noah shrugged beneath the blanket.

“Because he looked at me funny.”

Mia swallowed.

“He was surprised to see you.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

The answer caught in her throat.

Because you are his son.

The words stayed locked behind her teeth.

Noah waited another few seconds.

Then he asked, “Did he know you before?”

Mia looked away.

“Yes.”

“Were you friends?”

A bitter smile touched her lips.

“Something like that.”

“Best friends?”

“No.”

“Enemies?”

Mia almost laughed.

“I don’t know.”

Noah frowned.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

She brushed his curls away from his forehead.

“Go back to sleep.”

“But—”

“Please, Noah.”

Something in her voice made him stop.

He studied her.

Then he nodded.

“Okay.”

He curled against her side.

Mia waited until his breathing became slow and even.

Only then did she let herself cry.

Silently.

She pressed the heel of her hand against her mouth.

She had promised herself that Noah would never have to carry the weight of the past.

She had promised herself Alexander would never get the chance to hurt him.

But promises became difficult when the person you’d spent seven years avoiding suddenly walked back into your life.

And tomorrow, he would be standing only a few feet away.

⸻

Alexander didn’t sleep either.

The letter sat on his desk.

He had read it so many times that he no longer needed to unfold it.

He knew every word.

Alexander,

If you are reading this, then I am gone.

There are things I should have told you five years ago. Things you deserved to know before you signed those papers.

I tried to tell you. You didn’t listen.

But I understand why.

What happened between you and Mia was not what you believed.

And the person who convinced you otherwise knew exactly what they were doing.

Alexander’s fingers tightened around the paper.

That sentence had been enough to make his entire evening disappear.

He had spent five years believing Mia had betrayed him.

He had seen the evidence.

Messages.

Photographs.

Financial records.

Everything had pointed in one direction.

He had confronted her.

She had denied it.

He hadn’t believed her.

Now, five years later, a dead man was telling him he had been wrong.

Alexander stood and walked toward the window.

The city stretched beneath him.

Lights flickered across the skyline.

He remembered Mia standing in this same office five years ago.

She had been crying.

He remembered that clearly.

What he couldn’t remember was why he’d allowed himself to walk away while she cried.

At the time, he’d told himself that tears didn’t prove innocence.

Now he wondered whether they had proved something else.

That she had been telling the truth.

His phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

His mother.

He almost ignored it.

Instead, he answered.

“Mother.”

“You haven’t called me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“The funeral is tomorrow.”

“I know.”

A pause.

Then she asked,

“Have you seen Mia?”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes.”

Another pause.

“You saw her?”

“At the airport.”

His mother’s voice became strangely careful.

“Was she alone?”

“No.”

Alexander looked at the letter.

“She has a son.”

Silence.

Not surprise.

Not confusion.

Silence.

Alexander straightened.

“You knew?”

“I…”

“Mother.”

“I knew she had a child.”

His jaw tightened.

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Alexander, tomorrow isn’t the time.”

“Then when is?”

His mother sighed.

“Come to the funeral.”

“Mother—”

“Come tomorrow.”

She ended the call.

Alexander stared at the phone.

Something had changed.

He could feel it.

He had walked into this week expecting a funeral.

Now it felt like he was walking toward a reckoning.

⸻

Morning came too quickly.

Mia stood in front of the mirror fastening the buttons of her black dress.

Behind her, Noah was struggling with his tie.

“Mommy.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to like it.”

“It feels like a rope.”

Mia turned.

She smiled despite herself.

“Come here.”

Noah walked over.

She fixed the tie properly and straightened his collar.

“There.”

He looked at himself in the mirror.

“Do I look handsome?”

“Very.”

“Like Daddy?”

Mia’s fingers stopped.

Noah didn’t notice.

He was still looking at his reflection.

Mia forced her hand to move.

“Let’s not talk about that today.”

“Okay.”

He nodded.

But Mia knew the question wasn’t going away.

Neither was the past.

⸻

The funeral hall was already crowded when Alexander arrived.

He stepped out of the car and immediately saw the gathered families.

His mother.

His uncles.

Business associates.

Old friends.

People he hadn’t seen in years.

And then—

Mia.

She stood near the entrance.

Black dress.

Hair pulled back.

One hand resting lightly on Noah’s shoulder.

Alexander stopped walking.

He hadn’t expected the sight to affect him this much.

Then Noah looked up.

Their eyes met.

The boy’s expression changed.

Not fear this time.

Recognition.

Alexander’s chest tightened.

Noah looked at him for a long moment.

Then he leaned closer to Mia and whispered something.

Mia immediately looked toward Alexander.

Their eyes met across the crowded hall.

She looked away first.

Alexander started walking toward them.

One step.

Then another.

Mia’s hand tightened around Noah’s shoulder.

She whispered something to the boy.

Noah nodded.

Alexander was almost there when a familiar voice interrupted.

“Alexander.”

He turned.

His mother’s face was pale.

“Come with me.”

Alexander didn’t move.

“Why?”

She glanced at Mia.

Then at Noah.

And for the first time, Alexander saw something he had never seen on his mother’s face before.

Fear.

“Because,” she whispered,

“there’s something you need to know before you speak to that child.”

Alexander stared at her.

“What?”

His mother looked toward Mia.

Then she said the words that changed everything.

“Your divorce was never supposed to happen.”