Chapter 7 - The Truth Hiding In A Smile
1713 Words
Calla
The second she got home, Calla locked the door, dropped her bag, and collapsed against it.
Her knees hit the floor, and the tears came fast—hot, angry, breathless.
He knew something was wrong.
He felt it. Saw it in her face. Heard it in her voice.
And she had lied again—straight to his face, knowing the truth, sat in a tiny bedroom down the hall, clutching a stuffed dinosaur and calling her Mama.
She covered her mouth to stifle the sob, her chest heaving.
Lucas was with her aunt for the night. It was the only reason she allowed herself to fall apart now.
A knock at the door jolted her upright.
She didn’t move—too raw, too humiliated. But the door opened anyway with a quiet creak.
Only one person knew where the spare key was.
“Tessa,” she rasped, wiping her face quickly.
Her best friend took one look and dropped her purse. “Oh, sweet girl.”
Calla didn’t speak. She just let herself be pulled up and held.
They stood in the middle of the apartment like that—two women against the weight of the world.
When the sobs slowed, Calla whispered, “I think he’s starting to figure it out.”
Tessa exhaled. “Did he ask?”
“No. But he said I was hiding something.” Her voice broke. “And I am.”
Tessa pulled back to look her in the eye. “Calla… this isn’t sustainable. You’re tearing yourself apart to protect everyone from the fallout, but you’re already falling.”
Calla covered her face again. “I’m scared. If he hates me… if he walks away again…”
“What if he doesn’t?” Tessa said gently. “What if he steps up?”
Calla shook her head. “I don’t even know who he is anymore.”
“Then give him a chance to show you.”
Calla sank onto the couch, voice small. “What if Lucas asks again?”
“Then maybe that’s your sign,” Tessa said quietly. “That it’s time.”
Eli
Eli stood in his office, staring at the photo pinned to the top of the design proposal—an image of Calla and her team during the initial penthouse survey.
But his eyes weren’t on the layout. They were on the child behind her in the photo. A blur of curls. A tiny smile.
Lucas.
He couldn’t stop replaying the way the boy looked at him. Calm. Familiar. Not like a stranger meeting a man at a market. More like… recognition.
He’s three.
That night… it was almost exactly three years ago.
The math checked out.
But logic was one thing. Possibility was another. He paced.
If it were true, she would’ve told him. Wouldn’t she?
Unless… she thought he didn’t deserve to know. Or that he’d abandon them.
And that thought sat like lead in his gut. Had he done something to make her believe that?
He hadn’t even known her name back then. She left before sunrise. He hadn’t searched hard—why would he? It had been one night. One perfect, aching night with no strings, no promises, no aftermath.
But there had been an aftermath.
Maybe.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, frustration simmering beneath the surface. He didn’t want to accuse her. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
But he also didn’t want to be a stranger to a child that might be his.
Eli sat down heavily, staring out the window.
The city below buzzed like it always did—fast, electric, detached. But he was far from detached now. He was tethered.
To a memory.
To a woman.
And maybe… to a son.
Eli
Eli never talked about that night.
Not to friends. Not even to Daniel, his older brother and business partner—the only person who knew him before success made him guarded.
But tonight, after too many thoughts and too little sleep, Eli found himself in Daniel’s living room with a beer he wasn’t drinking and a question he wasn’t sure he knew how to ask.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at the fireplace like it insulted you. What’s going on?”
Eli leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You ever wonder if you missed something important?”
Daniel smirked. “Besides that chance to buy crypto at twenty cents? Sure.”
“I’m serious.”
Daniel sobered. “Alright. Talk to me.”
“There was this woman. Three years ago.”
Daniel gave him a knowing look. “One-night stand?”
Eli nodded once. “Didn’t know her name. She left before morning. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again. But now… she’s leading a major project for us.”
Daniel’s brows rose. “And?”
“She has a kid.”
“Ooookay…”
“He’s three.”
Daniel sat back. “Oooh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
Eli’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t want to assume anything. But something about the kid… it’s familiar. His eyes. His smile. The way Calla—her name’s Calla—looks at him. And at me.”
Daniel didn’t speak for a moment. Then, carefully: “Do you want him to be yours?”
Eli blinked. “That’s not the question.”
“But it is,” Daniel said softly. "Because the answer changes everything. If you do… you need to find the truth. And if you don’t—walk away.”
“I can’t walk away.” Eli’s voice was low. “Not anymore.”
Lucas
Calla was late.
The daycare lobby buzzed with toddlers in rain boots and frazzled parents juggling snacks, bags, and wet umbrellas. Eli had just stopped by to drop off a donation of books—something his company sponsored quarterly—when Lucas spotted him.
“Eli!” Lucas called, darting toward him with arms wide.
Eli crouched in surprise, catching the three-year-old before he could trip. “Hey, buddy.”
Lucas grinned up at him. “You came back!”
“I did,” Eli said, smiling. “What are you up to today?”
“Drawing. I made a spaceship with me and Mama. It’s pink and blue and we go to the moon. Wanna see?”
“Of course.”
Lucas grabbed his small backpack and fished out a folded paper, handing it proudly to Eli. In crude crayon lines, two stick figures smiled inside a bubble-shaped ship. One had blonde curls. The other… brown hair. Gold skin.
Eli’s brows lifted.
“And who’s this?” he asked, pointing to the figure next to Lucas.
“That’s you!” Lucas chirped. “Mama says you’re not in the moon picture, but I put you there.”
Eli’s chest tightened.
“Oh yeah?”
Lucas nodded. “You look like me. Mama said that’s ‘coincidental.’” He pronounced the word slowly, as if it were a spell.
Eli tried to laugh. It came out hollow. “She did, huh?”
Lucas shrugged. “I like you. You smell nice. Not like Coach Theo. He smells like cheese.”
Eli chuckled, but the paper in his hand trembled slightly.
He folded it carefully and handed it back. “I like you, too, kid.”
Calla arrived minutes later, breathless, apologizing as she scooped Lucas into her arms. Her eyes flicked to Eli—and she froze.
He gave her a polite smile.
“Lucas made me a drawing,” he said smoothly. “He’s got an impressive imagination.”
Calla paled. “I—I’m sure he does.”
Their eyes locked.
He didn’t press her.
Not yet.
But something in him whispered:
The truth is already showing.
Calla
She barely waited until the apartment door clicked shut behind them before setting Lucas down.
“Baby,” she said gently but quickly, crouching to his level, “what did you and Mr. Eli talk about at daycare?”
Lucas blinked at her with those wide, innocent eyes—the ones that mirrored Eli’s so perfectly it made her chest ache.
He shrugged. “He came to visit. Like a helper. I showed him my spaceship!”
Calla swallowed hard. “Did he say anything after you showed him the picture?”
“Nope,” Lucas said brightly, kicking off his shoes. “He smiled. Said I was a good artist. Oh—and that I smell better than cheese.”
Calla blinked. “What?”
“I told him Coach Theo smells like cheese.”
A strangled laugh slipped from her. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm her racing pulse.
“Okay. "Okay.” She exhaled. “Can you show me the picture?”
Lucas nodded and pulled out the crumpled drawing from his bag. “Ta-da!”
She took it with trembling fingers.
Crayons. Blue and pink. Stick figures. Stars.
And right there in the spaceship—him. Eli. Drawn beside Lucas with brown curls and golden skin.
“Oh no,” Calla whispered.
Lucas beamed. “I told him I made him be in the picture even if you didn’t say he could.”
“You told him that?”
“Yup. You said he wasn’t in the moon drawing, but I decided to put him there. He’s tall. Like me when I grow up.”
Calla’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Lucas didn’t know what he’d done. To him, it was all crayon and imagination. A beautiful lie sketched in innocence.
But to Eli?
She didn’t even know how much he had read between the lines.
She kissed Lucas’s forehead and hugged him close, trying to hide her trembling.
“Mama?” he murmured against her shoulder.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Did I do something wrong?”
Her heart shattered. “No,” she whispered. “You just told the truth. And Mama’s not ready for it yet.”
He didn’t understand.
Thank God he didn’t understand.
She tucked the drawing away, her hands cold.
It was only a matter of time.
Eli had seen it. Lucas had shown him.
And now, her carefully built world was beginning to c***k.
- Writer
