Chapter 7 Terms of Redemption

Chapter Seven: Terms of Redemption

The morning light spilled across the apartment like a secret. Warm, hesitant. As if even the sun wasn't sure it was welcome after the storm last night.

Ethan woke to the scent of coffee and the faint clinking of dishes.

He blinked blearily, momentarily disoriented-until his eyes landed on the child-sized slippers by the couch and the drawing on the wall that said Luca's House in rainbow crayon.

Reality settled in like a weight on his chest.

He swung his legs over the edge and stood, stretching muscles that ached in all the ways regret could settle in a man's bones.

Alessia was in the kitchen. Hair in a messy bun. Wearing an oversized hoodie that hung off one shoulder. No makeup. No walls.

And somehow, she still looked like the woman he remembered-the woman he never deserved.

She didn't greet him. Just slid a mug of coffee across the table.

"Milk, no sugar. Still how you take it?"

He paused. "Yeah."

She finally looked at him. Her eyes were calmer than last night, but her guard was razor-sharp.

"We need to talk."

"I know."

Alessia sat across from him, her hands wrapped tightly around her own mug like it was armor.

"You're not just walking into Luca's life. That's not how this works."

Ethan nodded. "Whatever you need from me-lawyers, court papers-"

"I don't care about a custody battle," she cut in. "I care about consistency."

He blinked. "Consistency?"

"Don't promise him things you won't do. Don't call and disappear. Don't show up one week and vanish the next. He's not a temporary fix for your guilt."

Ethan flinched, but said nothing.

"I've built this world to be stable for him," she continued, voice soft but deadly serious. "You want in? Then you build, too. Slowly. Brick by brick."

He swallowed. "I want to. I don't know how, but I'll learn."

Alessia studied him for a long beat.

"Then we start small. You can see him. Supervised. A few afternoons a week. If he wants that. And only if you stick to every plan you agree to. If you miss one-just one-we're done. No second chances. Not where he's concerned."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "Understood."

A quiet moment passed between them.

"Why did you really leave?" she asked suddenly, eyes locked on him. "I deserve the truth."

He hesitated.

"My father found out about us," he said. "He called you a mistake. Said if I stayed with you, I'd lose everything-my job, my name, my inheritance. He shut every door I had."

"And you didn't even fight for me?"

"I was twenty-three and stupid," Ethan said bitterly. "I thought cutting you off would protect you from his wrath. I thought I'd come back when it was safe-when I could give you the life you deserved."

Alessia's eyes burned. "I never wanted perfection, Ethan. I wanted you."

He reached across the table but stopped short. "Then let me try again. Not for us... but for him."

Her eyes dropped to her coffee, silent.

Then she stood. "Luca's with Grace. You can take him for ice cream after school-if he says yes."

Ethan nodded. "I'll be here."

As Alessia walked down the hall, the quiet stretched.

And Ethan sat there, staring into a cup of lukewarm coffee, realizing this wasn't a romance rekindled.

This was war.

A war for trust, for redemption.

For his son.

And this time-he wasn't leaving the battlefield.