Chapter 5 - Things He Didn't Know
1757 Words
Calla
Lucas was humming in the kitchen again. Off-key and loud, just like every morning.
The scent of toast filled the air, mingling with the faint citrusy detergent she used on her clothes. Sunshine poured through the windows, glinting off the tiny puddles he made when he sloshed his juice, trying to pour it "like a big boy."
Calla leaned against the counter, sipping her lukewarm coffee, watching him chase toast crumbs with chubby fingers.
“Careful, baby. You’re getting jam on your shirt again,” she said gently.
He looked up with sticky cheeks and a beaming smile. “It’s okay, Mama. You’ll wash it with the dragon soap.”
She smiled despite herself. “Detergent. Not soap.”
He ignored the correction and licked the corner of his mouth. “Mama?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I have a daddy?”
The question was so casual, so innocent, it took her a moment to register the weight of it.
Her breath caught.
Lucas stared at her with those hazel-green eyes—his eyes—wide and open and trusting. There was no malice in the question. Just curiosity. As if he were asking if he could have another pancake.
Calla crouched slowly beside him, brushing a curl away from his forehead.
“Why do you ask?”
“Liam, at daycare, has a daddy who picks him up in a red car,” he said. “He runs real fast. Liam says, daddies are good at racing and scaring monsters and fixing doors.”
Calla swallowed, her voice thick. “And you think you need one to do all that?”
Lucas considered it for a second. “No. But sometimes... I wish I had one too.”
She hugged him tight, breathing in the scent of syrup and baby shampoo. Her chest ached in a way no bandage could ever fix.
“You have me, okay? Always me.”
“I know, Mama.” He paused. “But... do I have a daddy somewhere?”
Calla didn’t answer right away.
Because the truth hovered behind her teeth, wrapped in fear and silence and everything she couldn’t say yet.
She kissed his forehead and pulled back. “Eat your toast, lovebug.”
He nodded, accepting the change of subject without protest. But the question stayed in the room like an echo.
Do I have a daddy?
Calla stood slowly, back at the counter, her heart cracking along the old seams. The question haunted her even as she tried to brush it away.
How much longer could she keep this up?
How long until Lucas stopped asking gently and started asking with hurt?
How long until Eli looked just a little too long and knew?
Tessa’s voice echoed in her mind from their last late-night talk:
“One day, it’s not going to be about protecting him anymore—it’ll be about giving him what he deserves.”
Calla looked over at her son, smiling and messy and whole.
What would happen when the truth finally broke free?
And more terrifying—
What if Eli didn’t want it?
Tessa
Tessa stirred honey into her coffee, watching Calla stare blankly at the pastry she hadn’t touched. The quiet between them was too difficult for a simple breakfast meetup at Café Soleil.
“You’re not eating,” Tessa said softly, breaking the silence.
Calla blinked as if waking from a fog. “Not hungry.”
“Because of him?” Tessa asked. “Or because of the question Lucas asked this morning?”
Calla’s throat worked as she nodded. “Both.”
Tessa leaned forward, hands wrapped around her cup. “Calla… we’ve danced around this for three years. But I need to ask: are you really prepared to keep it hidden forever?”
“I thought I was,” Calla whispered. But when Lucas looked at me and asked if he had a dad... I felt like I was breaking his heart before he even knew it was broken.”
Tessa didn’t say I told you so. She reached across the table and squeezed her friend’s hand.
“Lucas is already the best part of both of you. It’s not a question of whether Eli deserves to know. It’s whether Lucas deserves the truth.”
“I’m scared,” Calla admitted, her voice shaking. "What if Eli doesn’t want him? What if he’s angry? What if this ruins everything?”
Tessa held her gaze, calm but unwavering. “Then let him be angry. Let him fall apart. But don’t you dare rob Lucas of the chance to know where he came from just because you’re afraid of being hurt again.”
Calla blinked back tears. “He’s engaged.”
“And miserable,” Tessa said bluntly. “That man looked at you like the world cracked open. That wasn’t someone who’s over you.”
Calla looked down. “He’s not suspicious. Not yet.”
“Then figure out what you're waiting for, Calla, because secrets don’t stay buried forever. Not when you’re working with him. Not when Lucas starts to ask questions. Not when fate clearly isn’t done with you two yet.”
Eli
The skyline always looked different at night. Emptier. Colder.
Eli stood by his penthouse window, drink in hand, but he hadn’t touched it. He hadn’t touched much of anything since Calla Reyes walked into his boardroom and cracked open a memory he thought he’d buried.
She looked different—older, sharper—but still impossibly familiar. Her voice was the same. Soft. Controlled. Beautiful in its restraint.
And she’d acted like nothing had ever happened between them.
But Eli remembered. Every second of that night.
The way her laugh had surprised him. The sadness she tried to hide. The way she touched him like she was afraid to need anything—but did anyway.
He should have let her go. Should have chalked it up to a once-in-a-lifetime night with a nameless girl who vanished by morning.
But here she was.
And everything about her—her stillness, her smile, her eyes—made him feel like something was unfinished.
He didn’t know what yet. He just knew that when she spoke, he wanted to lean in.
When she looked away, he wanted to follow.
And when she walked out of that boardroom, he looked at the door too long.
He didn’t know why.
But he wanted to.
Calla
Saturday mornings were sacred.
No emails. No project calls. No pretending her heart didn’t still beat a little too fast when she heard Eli’s name.
Just pancakes, playgrounds, and Lucas's sticky hands in hers.
They were walking through the open-air farmer’s market nestled in Willowridge Park. Lucas wore his favorite dino T-shirt and blue sneakers that lit up when he stomped hard enough. He was currently on a mission to find the “best banana ever,” as if it were some holy fruit.
“Can I get one with freckles?” he asked, peering over a crate.
“You mean the spots?” Calla smiled.
“Yeah. Freckle bananas are sweeter. My teacher said so.”
She ruffled his curls. “One freckled banana, coming up.”
She paid the vendor while Lucas examined a pot of honey sticks at the next stall. His little fingers reached for the wildflower flavor—his favorite—when a large hand beat him to it.
“Oh, sorry, little man,” a deep voice said warmly. “Didn’t see you there.”
Calla turned at the sound.
Her heart skipped.
Eli.
Wearing a soft gray Henley, sunglasses tucked into the front, his hair slightly tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed and decided to look perfect anyway. He was alone. No entourage. No fiancée. Just him, in the sun.
Lucas looked up at the stranger, unbothered. “It’s okay, that one’s yours. Mama says sharing is nice.”
Eli crouched down, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That so? Your mama sounds smart.”
“She is,” Lucas beamed. “She’s over there.” He pointed without hesitation.
Eli turned.
Their eyes met.
Shock. Again.
Recognition.
Calla froze with the bag of produce halfway in her hand. “Eli.”
“Calla,” he said, standing. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Lucas ran back to her and looped his arms around her leg. “He took the wildflower one, Mama.”
Calla gently smoothed her son’s curls, ignoring the way her stomach twisted.
“I’ll get you another,” Eli said to Lucas, offering a smile that made her chest ache. “We can trade. You like strawberries?”
Lucas looked at her for approval. She nodded once.
“Okay,” Lucas said. “But only if Mama says.”
“She said yes,” Eli said, his voice softer now—directed at her. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I live nearby,” Calla said, trying to steady her voice. “This is our weekend routine.”
His brows lifted. “Our?”
Calla’s heart stuttered.
She glanced at Lucas. “Lucas is my son.”
Eli’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t question it.
Not yet.
“He’s a good kid,” he said instead, kneeling to hand Lucas the honey stick. “You’ve got great taste, buddy.”
Lucas nodded sagely. “I know.”
Eli chuckled. “What’s your favorite dinosaur?”
“Spinosaurus.”
“Solid choice.”
The two of them bantered like it was nothing, like the universe hadn’t just threatened to unravel at Calla’s feet.
“Thanks,” she said after a beat.
“For what?”
“For… being kind.”
He looked up at her, and for a second, the noise of the market faded.
“I remember kindness,” he said. “You showed it to me once. I haven’t forgotten.”
Lucas tugged her hand. “Mama, can we get lemonade?”
“Sure, baby.” She forced a smile. “We should go.”
Eli straightened. “Yeah. Me too. I have… meetings.”
But he didn’t move.
Neither did she.
Then finally: “Nice to meet you, Lucas,” he said.
“Bye, Eli,” Lucas said casually, already distracted by the promise of lemonade.
Calla nodded. “Take care.”
As she walked away, she could feel his eyes on her back. She didn’t turn around.
But in her chest, something shifted.
And it scared her.
- Writer
