Chapter 6 - Learning to Be a Father
Ethan slowly lifted his head, his eyes locking onto Noah’s face. A fresh tear slipped down his rain-streaked cheek as he forced a gentle, trembling smile through his grief. "Hi, Noah. I'm... I'm really sorry for being mean to your mommy at the restaurant."
I didn't let Ethan inside that night. I couldn't. Seven years of deep emotional scarring couldn't be erased by a tearful breakdown on a welcome mat. But Ethan didn't walk away.
The following morning, I woke up to find that the entire apartment building had been purchased overnight by a dummy subsidiary of Blackwood Enterprises. The common hallway had been scrubbed clean, two discreet security guards were posted at the main entrance, and the vacant unit directly across from ours had a new tenant: Ethan Blackwood.
He didn't try to flex his immense wealth or force his way into our daily routine. Instead, he tried to learn how to be a human being again.
Every morning at 7:00 AM, a soft knock would sound. Ethan would be standing in the doorway holding a bag of warm, fresh pastries from the neighborhood bakery Noah loved.
The first time he attempted to make breakfast himself, he burned three consecutive batches of pancakes and walked across the hall holding a plate, looking deeply humiliated. "I burnt the edges," he admitted quietly, standing awkwardly in a simple gray t-shirt and jeans. "But the middle is soft. I checked with a fork."
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Slowly, despite my heavy reservations, Noah began to warm up to him. One rainy afternoon, sitting on the hallway carpet between our open doors, Ethan spent two full hours patiently teaching Noah how to tie his shoelaces into double knots.
Watching Ethan sit on the plain carpet, his long legs folded uncomfortably as he gently guided Noah's tiny, clumsy fingers, a dull, agonizing ache throbbed in my chest. The gentle man I had fallen in love with in college was still in there. But the deep fear of being shattered again kept my wall firmly up.
