The Aftermath
The wedding continued, but the air was poisoned with rumors. Guests exchanged glances behind champagne flutes. Victoria refused to pose for photos. And Ethan sat rigid, haunted by the image of the boy who mirrored his features.
Days later, Ethan appeared at Claire’s doorstep in a plain jacket—no cameras, no entourage. Oliver opened the door.
“Hi,” he said, curious. “Do I know you?”
Ethan crouched. His voice cracked. “I’m… your dad.”
Claire appeared, arms crossed. “I don’t want your money, Ethan. Oliver is happy. Safe.”
“I want to know him,” Ethan whispered. “Please.”
Her expression softened only slightly. “This isn’t about what you want anymore. It’s about him. And right now, he needs stability, not confusion.”
Ethan nodded, tears in his eyes. “Then I’ll earn it. However long it takes.”
