Chapter 5 - A COLD MORNING IN CHICAGO
"He is my son, Dad!" Ethan shouted into the receiver, the frustration boiling over.
"And she is the mother who kept him alive while you played billionaire with a snake," Richard snapped back sharply.
The words hit Ethan like a physical blow to the stomach, knocking the fight completely out of him.
"You need to earn her trust back, Ethan," Richard said, his tone softening just a fraction.
"You cannot buy your way back into a heart that you allowed someone else to break so deeply."
The line went dead, leaving Ethan standing in the dark with the heavy realization of what he had to do.
At 5:00 AM the next morning, the small neighborhood bakery where Hannah worked was warm and smelled heavily of cinnamon.
Hannah wiped her flour-covered hands on her white apron and sighed softly.
Her new apartment was beautiful, safe, and Richard had promised her there were no strings attached to his generosity.
But her heart still ached with a dull, throbbing pain from the chaotic confrontation at the restaurant.
The brass bell above the bakery door jingled quietly, signaling a customer.
Hannah didn't look up as she continued arranging the tray of fresh, golden croissants in the display case.
"We don't open for another forty-five minutes," she called out over her shoulder.
"I know," a deep, heartbreakingly familiar voice replied from the doorway.
Hannah froze, the metal tongs slipping from her hand and clattering onto the glass counter.
She turned slowly and saw Ethan standing near the entrance, shaking the snow from his shoulders.
He wasn't wearing a three-thousand-dollar charcoal suit or a limited-edition designer watch.
He wore faded blue jeans, a heavy winter coat, and work boots dusted with fresh, powdery snow.
He looked exhausted, his dark hair messy and his eyes red-rimmed from a complete lack of sleep.
"I'm not here to cause a scene or make demands, Hannah," he said softly, keeping his distance.
He slowly approached the counter and placed a single, perfect white rose next to the cash register.
"I just needed to see you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You've seen me," Hannah said, her chin trembling slightly.
"Now please leave before I call your father to remove you."
Ethan nodded slowly, accepting her harsh boundary without a single argument or excuse.
He didn't offer her a black credit card, and he didn't demand legal custody rights to his son.
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"I drove forty minutes through the snowstorm," he said with a sad, crooked smile that broke her heart all over again.
"Just in case you happened to want some hot chocolate."
