Chapter 4

• As Charlotte finally stepped into her cozy apartment, the familiar scent of home wrapped around her like a warm shawl. The vibrant artwork hanging on the walls seemed to pulse with life, each piece a reflection of her journey—a journey that had been intertwined with a past she thought she had buried. Yet today, something felt different. The meeting with Damien had stirred up emotions she had long kept at bay, and she could feel the weight of memories pressing down on her.
• “Mommy!” A small voice broke through her reverie.
• Charlotte smiled, her heart swelling as her five-year-old son, Leo, came barreling toward her, his golden curls bouncing with enthusiasm. “You’re home! You’re home!” he cried, throwing his arms around her waist.
• “Hey, my little sunshine,” she said, kneeling down to embrace him tightly. The warmth of his small body was grounding, pulling her back to the present. “Did you miss me?”
• “Of course! I made a picture for you!” Leo’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he tugged her hand, leading her toward the kitchen table cluttered with crayons, papers, and his latest masterpiece. “Look!”
• Charlotte’s heart melted as she glanced at the drawing—a chaotic mix of colorful scribbles with an oversized stick figure that bore a striking resemblance to her. “Wow, Leo! I love it! It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.
• He beamed with pride, his face lighting up. “That’s you! And that’s me!” He pointed to the other stick figure next to hers, with a big smile and a goofy green hat.
• She couldn’t help but chuckle, ruffling his hair playfully. “You’re so creative, my love. This is going right up on the fridge!”
• As she pinned the drawing to the refrigerator, her mind drifted back to the meeting. Just a few hours ago, she had been face-to-face with Damien. The man who, unbeknownst to him, was Leo’s father.
• The whirlwind of emotions hit her again—guilt, fear, and uncertainty. Could she ever tell Damien the truth? Would he want to know? She thought of his radiant smile in the office, completely unaware of the little boy who could very well look like him, who shared his spirit, his zest for life.
• “Mommy?” Leo’s timid voice pulled her back, and she knelt down to his level, forcing a bright smile. “Are we having dinner soon? I’m hungry!”
• “Of course! How about we make our famous spaghetti together?”
• “Yay!” His eyes sparkled with delight, and he began bouncing on his toes.
• After Charlotte left, Damien returned to his office, the weight of their conversation lingering like a shadow. He found it hard to shake the image of her from his mind—the glow she emitted, the fire in her spirit. And the past, haunting and vibrant, was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
• “Damien?” Ester’s voice interrupted his thoughts as she stepped into his office, her expression bright and cheerful.
• “Yeah?” he replied, forcing a smile, but his mind was still wandering.
• “Did you wrap up everything with that designer? I can’t wait to see the necklace!” she chirped, oblivious to the internal struggle swirling within him.
• He nodded, attempting to shake off the memories of Charlotte. “Yes, we’ll start working on it immediately.”
• Ester leaned against his desk, a blissful look on her face. “You know, once the necklace is ready, we should plan a party to show it off. Just the two of us, a small gathering of our closest friends.”
• Damien forced himself to focus on her words, but the thought of a gathering felt hollow without Charlotte’s presence. But he dismissed the thought quickly. Shouldn't he be moving forward with his life? He had a fiancée to think of, after all.
• “Sure, that sounds great,” he said, but it lacked the enthusiasm both he and Ester deserved. Ester’s brow furrowed slightly, a hint of concern flashing in her eyes.
• “Is everything okay? You seem a little distant,” she asked, leaning closer, trying to gauge his mood.
• “Yeah, just a lot on my mind. I’ll be fine.” He brushed it off, his mind drifting back to the look on Charlotte’s face, the way her words had hinted at something deeper.
• As they cooked together, Leo’s laughter filled the kitchen, the melody of his joy wrapping around Charlotte like a protective blanket. Yet the weight of her secret loomed larger. She watched him stir the pot, his little arms straining as he pretended to be a chef.
• “Mommy, when are you gonna see your friend again? Can i meet him?” he asked casually, as if he were asking about a neighbor they might visit.
• Charlotte’s heart raced at his question. “Well, sweetheart, mommy's just very busy right now,” she replied, choosing her words carefully. “But he’s really nice, and maybe one day—you never know.”
• “What if he comes to our house? Like for dinner?”
• The thought struck her, hard. Could she even manage that? The consequences loomed heavy—the potential for secrets to unravel and the truth to drip into the air like a leaking faucet. Should she ever decide to introduce Leo to the man who would utterly change the course of everything?
• “Maybe one day,” she said softly, forcing a smile to cover her turmoil. “But for now, how about we finish this dinner?”
• Leo’s laughter bubbled over as he clumsily tossed herbs into the pot, and for a moment, Charlotte allowed herself to breathe, to bask in the simplicity of being a mother. But beneath it all, the uncertainty remained, a rock in her heart.
• That evening, as he sat in his office preparing for the next meeting, Damien felt the shadows of doubt creeping back. He pulled up the designs they had discussed for the necklace, trying to focus on his work, but his mind kept wandering back to Charlotte.
• What if all this time he had made a mistake—forgetting her, distancing himself? The question nagged at him relentlessly. He unconsciously reached for his phone, scrolling through old messages and photographs, finding one image of them together, laughing under the sun. He felt a pang of nostalgia hit him hard, igniting the familiar warmth of lost love.
• What if Charlotte had wanted something more than just to be a designer he admired from afar?
• His pulse quickened, and he felt a sudden ache in his chest. Perhaps it was time to confront the past, to figure out his feelings once and for all. Little did he know that the truth awaiting him was far more complicated than he could ever imagine.
• As the night dragged on, he couldn’t rid himself of the creeping sensation that both his past and future were intertwined in a way he had yet to comprehend completely. The thought of a son—a little boy he knew nothing about—began to linger in the depths of his mind, nudging at the edges of his curiosity, waiting for the right moment to rise to the surface.