The evening light spilled through the curtains as Rachel sat across from Arnold in the living room, the weight of the conversation between them hanging heavily in the air. Ethan had gone to bed early, his usual evening routine disrupted by the revelations of the day. As much as Rachel wanted to shield him from the truth, she knew it wasn't fair to keep him in the dark any longer. And yet, the burden of her past decisions felt unbearable.
Ethan had a right to know, and Arnold—Arnold had a right to be part of his life. But how could Rachel balance it all? How could she face the man she once loved, the man she had almost lost, when her marriage to Andrew was built on lies and half-truths?
A soft knock on the door snapped Rachel out of her thoughts.
"Mom?" Ethan's voice was small but filled with a sense of urgency.
Rachel glanced at Arnold before rising to open the door. Her son stood in the hallway, his expression conflicted—something was off.
"Ethan, what is it, sweetheart?" Rachel asked, trying to keep her voice calm. But there was something in Ethan's eyes that told her he wasn't coming for a simple bedtime request.
"I need to talk to you," he said, his tone serious. "It's important."
Rachel exchanged a look with Arnold, who stood, watching the exchange silently. Arnold's presence in the house was both a comfort and a reminder of everything Rachel had tried to bury.
"Okay," Rachel replied softly, stepping aside to let her son enter the room. "What's going on, sweetie?"
Ethan walked over to the couch, taking a seat beside Rachel, his small fingers playing nervously with the hem of his sleeve. "Mom… can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Rachel said, sitting down beside him.
Ethan took a deep breath before speaking again. "Why don't I have a little brother or sister?"
The question hung in the air, catching Rachel off guard. She felt the ground shift beneath her feet, the unexpectedness of the question sending a jolt through her chest. It wasn't just the question that hit her hard, but the vulnerability in Ethan's eyes. He had noticed.
Rachel swallowed, her voice faltering. "What do you mean, Ethan? You're still young, we don't need another baby right now."
But Ethan wasn't convinced. He turned his eyes up to her, a deep, unspoken longing in them. "But why, Mom? Every time I see my friends with their brothers and sisters, I wonder… why I don't have one. Why don't you want another baby?"
Rachel felt the sting of his words, the confusion and longing that clouded his innocent gaze. She had been so focused on keeping the peace between her and Andrew, so determined to maintain a façade of happiness, that she had neglected the very real needs of her son.
Ethan's voice grew more persistent. "Is it because of Arnold? Is that why you haven't had another child?"
Rachel froze. The mention of Arnold sent a pang of guilt through her, followed by a surge of anger that she quickly suppressed. How could she explain this to her son? How could she tell him that the man he now knew as a stranger was, in fact, his biological father—the same man she had shared a passionate night with, resulting in Ethan's birth?
Before she could respond, Arnold stepped closer, his voice unexpectedly soft but firm. "Ethan, I think your mom has been struggling with a lot, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. She does, more than anything in the world. But sometimes, things get complicated, and people don't always do what they should."
Ethan looked up at Arnold, confusion still clouding his face. "But why doesn't Mom want another baby? Why haven't you given me a brother or sister?"
Rachel's heart shattered at the words. She had failed him. In her pursuit of making everything perfect with Andrew, she had ignored Ethan's desire for the family he deserved.
"Ethan…" Rachel started, her voice shaking. "Your mom and I… we didn't want to have another child just yet. Sometimes, things don't go as planned."
"Is it because of Andrew?" Ethan asked, the suspicion in his voice evident. "You and Dad haven't been happy for a long time, right?"
Rachel's breath caught in her throat. "Sweetheart, we're just trying to figure everything out. It's not about you—"
"Then why?" Ethan interrupted. His voice was quieter now, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable. "Why haven't I had a brother or sister? Why hasn't Dad given me one? I want to know."
Rachel stood, unable to answer. She walked across the room, feeling the weight of Ethan's words pressing down on her like a heavy fog. Arnold stood still, his gaze fixed on Rachel, understanding the unspoken battle within her.
When she turned back to face Ethan, the question lingered in the air, unanswered.
"I don't know, Ethan," she said softly, her voice breaking. "But I promise, we'll figure it out."
Ethan looked at her one last time before turning toward the door. "I just want a family like everyone else," he whispered before leaving.
Rachel slumped into the chair, her heart torn. How had things gotten this far? How had she allowed herself to get trapped in this web of lies, of uncertainty, of longing? Ethan deserved better than this. And somewhere, deep inside, Rachel knew she owed it to him to give him the answers he needed.