Aidan
I looked up from my coffee to look at Ellie. She emerged in the doorway, Lucas clutching the hem of her jeans like a lifeline.
"Morning," she said, her smile brittle as thin ice.
"Hey," I replied, setting down the mug, the ceramic clack echoing too loud in the silence. "How've you been?"
It was a lame attempt at normalcy, but what do you say to someone who's walked back into your life like the ghost of a past you tried to bury? There was a tension between us, thick enough to cut, yet here I was, fishing for small talk.
Ellie's gaze flickered, her discomfort apparent. She shifted, toeing off her shoes as if grounding herself. "Surviving," she admitted.
"Come sit down," I commanded. "And who is this little man?" I asked, pointing at the boy behind her.
"Lucas," she started, her voice softly trembling. This is Aidan, your uncle."
