Chapter 27

ISABELLA’S POV

The moment the guest room door close, the fear that has been sitting in my chest turns pours out.

“You took them to a construction site,” I say, keeping my voice low so I do not wake them. “You left this apartment with my children, to an active development site, without even trying to inform me first, then you went ahead and not answer a single call.”

Ethan stands near the windows, still in the clothes he wore to the site. “There was an accident. Two of my workers were hurt. I had no one to leave them with and no time to wait.”

“You had a phone.” My voice remains controlled, or not, I don't care at this point. “You had time to send a message about going to the playground but did not have time to tell me you were taking them to a work emergency?”

“I should have called.”

“You should have stayed here.” I step closer. “Do you understand what it felt like to come back to an empty apartment? To call and get nothing? To sit here not knowing whether something had happened to them?”

His expression shifts and the defense I'm sure he arrived with begins to fade.

“I was careful,” he replies. “They were never near the active area. They were in a secure office the entire time.”

“That is not the point.” My hands are clenched at my sides. “The point is that you made another decision that affected them without telling me. Again. I left them with you for three hours, and you disappeared with them. I thought...” I stop, not wanting to be vunerable with him. “I thought you might have taken them.”

Silence fills the space between us. He looks at me as if he is only now fully registering the fear behind my anger.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he says quietly.

“You already did something I told you not to do once before,” I answer. “You also took them from school without warning. Today you took them to a work site without telling me. Every time you decide you know better, I am the one left trying to breathe through the consequences.”

“I need to be able to trust that when I leave them with you, they will be where you say they are,” I continue. “If I cannot have that, this arrangement does not work.”

Ethan stands still for a long moment. The earlier justification is gone from his face, replaced by maybe a recognition of his damage.

“You’re right,” he says finally. “I should have called. I should have found another way. It won’t happen again.”

I do not answer immediately. I can still feel fear cousing through my vein, and the apology, while necessary, does not erase the hell I just lived through.

“I’m going to sit with them,” I say. “We can talk about what this means for our agreement tomorrow. I am not ready for this tonight.”

I turn and walk into the guest room, closing the door softly behind me. Inside, I sit on the edge of the bed and watch my children sleep, the residual adrenaline is still moving through my body and the temporary peace we had started to build feels thinner than it did this morning.

Trust, once cracked in this way, does not mend on the strength of a single admission.

The penthouse is quiet and I know he is still standing in the living room where I left him, but I also know that the conversation we need to have about the future of this arrangement has just become more complicated.

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I am startle awake by the sound of Lila’s soft breathing and Liam shuffling beside me. The whole surrounding is quiet...infact too quiet. I listen for movement elsewhere in the penthouse and hear nothing. No footsteps or even the scent of coffee being made.

I get up, pull on a sweater, and check the rest of the apartment. Even Ethan’s bedroom door is wide open, but his bed is made and his keys are gone from the bowl near the entrance. He left without a word.

Liam appears in the hallway, with his hair sticking up on one side. “Where is he?”

“He had to go out,” I say. “Come on. Let’s get breakfast.”

I try my best to keep the morning normal for them. Served them toast, and fruit, while maintaining the usual back-and-forth with Liam. Lila eats slowly but keeps looking toward the doorway as if Ethan might still appear. When he doesn’t, she climbs into my lap and stays there longer than usual.

By late morning I turn on the small television in the kitchen while the twins play on the rug. Not long later a business segment comes on and I almost change the channel until I hear Ethan’s name. The screen shows him outside a glass building, shaking hands with two men in suits, with a woman standing close beside him. When the handshake ends, she steps in and he puts an arm around her back for the photo both of them smiling for the cameras.

All of a sudden I feel anger moving through my chest.

I watch the clip again when they replay it. The woman’s hand rests on his arm a second too long. His smile looks easy and familiar. The kind he used to give when he wanted something.

I turn the television off.

Liam looks up. “Mommy?”

“It’s nothing.” I force my voice to stay even. “Play with your sister. I need to do something.”

I walk into the guest room and close the door partway. The image of Ethan with that woman burns behind my eyes. He disappeared this morning without explanation, only to show up on the news with his arm around someone else. Obiviously whatever interest he has in me has its limits. The children are the priority for him. I am convenient when he wants me and disposable when he does not.

I can't do this. What am I doing to myself. Waiting to be messed up again?

ETHAN’S POV

The closing of the contract signing runs longer than expected. The partners want photographs, statements, and a walk-through of the next phase. By the time I leave the building it is past noon. I check my phone, to see no messages from Isabella. What was I expecting...I send a short text that I am on my way back and slide the phone into my pocket.

The drive to the penthouse is quiet, all I can think is how I will solve the elephant in the room. I expect to walk in and find the usual tension of Isabella keeping her distance, and the twins occupying themselves.

Instead the apartment is silent.

I set my keys down and walk through the rooms. The guest room is empty and the children’s properties are gone from the counter. Even the small bag Isabella brought for their clothes is no longer in the corner.

On the kitchen island, centered where I will not miss it, is a folded sheet of paper.

I open it.

Ethan,

The children need to return to their routine and their home. I need to do the same. This arrangement is not working for me. I will contact you about visitation. Do not come to the house please.

Thank you.

Isabella

I can't help but read it twice. The words are clean and final. No explanation beyond what is written. I set the letter down and stand there with my hands braced on the edge of the counter. Yesterday she was angry about the site visit. Today she is gone. The jump feels too large for what happened between us.

I call her, but it keeps going to voicemail. I call again. Same result. I send a message. No reply.