Chapter 8 Ice cream and Unspoken Questions

Chapter Eight: Ice Cream and Unspoken Questions

Ethan stood outside the school gates, dressed down in a navy sweater and jeans, nervously checking his watch for the third time in five minutes.

3:25 p.m.

Any minute now.

He hadn't stood outside a school since he was a boy, and the sensation was surreal. He was surrounded by parents-some with strollers, some on phones, some looking completely at ease. Meanwhile, his heart pounded like it was the first day of battle.

Then he saw him.

Luca came bursting through the gate with a backpack twice his size and a wide grin-until he spotted Ethan.

The smile faltered.

Ethan crouched down, managing a soft smile. "Hey, buddy."

Luca came closer, eyeing him suspiciously. "Where's Mommy?"

"She's letting us hang out today. Just you and me. If you still want to."

Luca tilted his head, curious. "Do you know where the best ice cream place is?"

"I think I do. But maybe you should lead the way."

The boy gave him a long look, then nodded. "Okay. But I want two scoops."

Ethan chuckled. "Two it is."

-

At the ice cream shop, Luca ordered chocolate chip cookie dough and blue bubblegum-swirled. Ethan got plain vanilla.

"That's boring," Luca said, licking his spoon dramatically.

"I guess I'm a boring guy."

"You don't look boring. You have lines on your face." Luca pointed.

Ethan raised a brow. "Lines?"

"Right there. On the sides." Luca mimicked a frown. "You must've been really mad a lot."

Ethan blinked. Then laughed-a real, soft, unguarded laugh.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess I was."

They sat by the window, Luca's legs swinging under the bench. For a while, it was just the scrape of spoons and the sticky sweetness of bubblegum ice cream melting too fast.

Then, Luca's voice: "Are you staying?"

The question was a knife.

Ethan looked at him. "I want to."

Luca paused. "Mommy cries sometimes. At night. I hear her."

Ethan's throat tightened. "I'm... sorry for that."

"She says I'm the best thing that ever happened to her."

"She's right."

Luca looked at him, serious. "Are you gonna make her cry again?"

Ethan leaned in, all playfulness gone. "Never again. I swear."

Luca considered this, then pushed his half-melted cone toward Ethan. "You can have the last bite. But just this once."

Ethan smiled as he took it. "Deal."

-

Across the street, Alessia watched through the café window, clutching her takeout cup with white knuckles.

Grace stood beside her. "You okay?"

"I don't know."

"He's trying."

"He's done that before."

Grace looked at her. "But Luca's never had the chance to try back. Maybe it's time you let your son decide who his father is... not just who Ethan was."

Alessia didn't answer.

But across the glass, Ethan looked up-caught her watching-and smiled.

Not smug. Not triumphant.

Just grateful.

And for the first time in years, Alessia didn't look away.