Chapter 5

• “Daddy.”
• Alexander Sterling didn’t look up from his laptop. “Hm?”
• Theo stood by the door of the home office, his tiny hands gripping the hem of his shirt, his lips forming a tight line.
• “I want to see her.”
• Alexander finally looked up. “See who?”
• “The pretty lady from the hotel,” Theo said, more determined this time. “I miss her.”
• Alexander leaned back in his chair, arms crossing slowly. “Theo, you just met her.”
• “But she held my hand,” Theo argued, walking closer. “She said I was safe with her. And she smiled like Mama in my dreams.”
• Alexander stilled.
• That word. Mama.
• He rarely heard Theo use it. And certainly never like this.
• Theo’s gray eyes, so like his father’s, stared up with silent insistence. “Please, Daddy.”
• Alexander sighed, closing the laptop. “What do you even think she is? A fairy godmother?”
• Theo didn’t smile. He meant it. “She smelled like sunshine. I just want to see her again. Please?”
• Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t fond of unexpected connections—especially not ones that dug into the strange territory of memory and longing. But it wasn’t often Theo asked for things. And when he did, he asked with quiet eyes and soft words that felt like little daggers.
• “Fine,” Alexander muttered. “We’ll stop by.”
• “Yay!” Theo beamed, then turned on his heel and ran out of the room.
• Alexander stared after him, a strange feeling curling in his chest.
• Why her?
• —
• Danielle lived in a small modern townhouse tucked in a quiet cul-de-sac. It was nothing extravagant, but it had personality—books lined the walls, succulents dotted the windowsills, and the smell of cinnamon drifted faintly from the kitchen.
• She had just taken her casserole out of the oven when the doorbell rang.
• She frowned, wiping her hands on her apron. Aria hadn’t said she was coming over.
• Opening the door, Danielle’s breath caught in her throat.
• There, standing in her doorway, was him—the tall, sharp-featured man from the hotel. And beside him, clutching his hand tightly, was the little boy.
• Theo’s eyes lit up. “You do live here!”
• Danielle blinked. “You found me?”
• “He insisted,” Alexander said coolly. “I apologize for the intrusion.”
• Danielle, still recovering, stepped aside instinctively. “No, no—it’s… okay. Please, come in.”
• Theo didn’t wait for an invitation. He tugged off his shoes and ran straight to her couch like he’d been there a hundred times.
• Alexander remained by the door, assessing the place with his usual guarded expression.
• “You didn’t have to come all the way here,” Danielle said, closing the door behind them.
• “I had no choice. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep.” Alexander gave a dry glance toward his son. “And he has a persuasive way about him.”
• Danielle laughed softly, easing the tension. “He’s a charming little boy.”
• “Too charming,” Alexander muttered under his breath.
• Danielle looked between them, suddenly unsure what to do. “Would you like something to drink? Dinner? I was just setting the table…”
• Theo turned around on the couch. “Can we eat with you? Please?”
• Alexander started to object, but Danielle cut in gently, “It’s really no trouble. I made more than enough.”
• Alexander studied her for a moment—then gave a brief nod. “Only for a bit.”
• —
• Dinner was quieter than Danielle expected.
• Theo ate like a polite little gentleman, constantly sneaking glances at her between bites. He complimented her food, told her about his favorite cartoons, and even asked to help set the plates. It tugged at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.
• Alexander, on the other hand, remained stoic, answering her polite questions with sharp, efficient replies. But his eyes never strayed far from his son. Or from her.
• As they cleared the dishes, a loud crack of thunder startled all three of them. The wind howled outside, rain pelting the windows in thick, merciless sheets.
• Danielle rushed to the window, pulling the curtains aside. “Whoa. That came out of nowhere.”
• Alexander checked his phone. “Storm warning. Flash floods in some areas.”
• “Oh no,” Danielle said, glancing at the drenched streets below. “You probably shouldn’t be driving in that.”
• “I have a driver waiting outside—”
• “Daddy, it’s scary,” Theo said suddenly, clutching Alexander’s sleeve.
• Danielle looked at them, then sighed. “You can stay here tonight. Just until the storm passes. I have a guest room.”
• Alexander raised a brow. “We wouldn’t want to impose—”
• “You already have,” she said lightly, a teasing glint in her eye.
• For a moment, Alexander almost smiled.
• Almost.
• —
• Later that night, Danielle made up the guest room while Theo jumped around her like a puppy, asking questions about her books, her paintings, her favorite snacks. He’d already changed into an oversized T-shirt she lent him, looking like a tiny marshmallow.
• Alexander stood awkwardly in the hallway, holding a towel she’d given him. His usual confidence seemed dimmed in the quiet of her home.
• “I don’t know what he sees in me,” Danielle said softly as she adjusted the pillows.
• “He’s always been… intuitive,” Alexander replied. “He doesn’t warm up to people easily.”
• She turned to face him. “Neither do you, I’m guessing.”
• He didn’t answer, but she saw the twitch of amusement in his lips.
• “Do you remember me from somewhere?” she asked suddenly, unable to stop herself.
• His eyes flickered—just briefly. “No.”
• She nodded slowly. “Right.”
• But he did. That voice. That warmth. That expression she wore when she didn’t realize someone was watching. It stirred something in him.
• “I’ll be in the living room,” Danielle said, brushing past him. “You can come find me if he needs anything.”
• He watched her go, the scent of cinnamon and something softer lingering in her wake.
• In the guest room, Theo had already snuggled into bed, hugging a pillow twice his size. “I like her,” he murmured.
• Alexander sat beside him, brushing a hand over his son’s hair.
• “Me too,” he admitted quietly.
• But he didn’t know why.
• Yet.