When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 102

Amelia

When I woke the next morning, sunlight was streaming through my curtains. My fever had broken, leaving me weak but clear-headed. I looked at my hand, noticing the needle mark where the IV had been. Fragments of the night before came back to me—the doctor, the silent nurse, the whispered apology.

Mrs. Garcia knocked and entered with a tray of toast and tea.

"How are you feeling this morning? Your temperature is down to 37.1." She placed a hand on my forehead. "Frank and those medical people stayed until about 5:30 this morning. They only left when your fever broke."

"The nurse," I said, my voice hoarse. "The tall woman who stayed with me—did you meet her?"

"Oh yes, she stayed by your side all night. Didn't say a word though—Frank mentioned she was mute."

I frowned, confused. "She didn't speak at all?"

"Not that I heard. She communicated through gestures. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," I murmured, settling back against my pillows. "I must have been dreaming."

But as Mrs. Garcia busied herself around the room, I stared at the needle mark on my hand, troubled. I distinctly remembered the nurse's whispered apology, the way she'd held me. If she were mute, who had spoken to me in the darkness?

Unless... my fever had been so high that I'd hallucinated the entire interaction. That had to be it. Yet something about the memory felt too real, too specific to be a product of my delirious mind.

Why would a stranger apologize to me? And why did I feel, in some inexplicable way, that I should know who she was?

Putting these questions aside, I went downstairs to find Ella.

I froze in my tracks, unable to process what I was seeing. There, in the middle of our apartment complex's playground, was Ethan carefully helping Ella navigate the climbing frame. His hands were steady, supportive, and his face held an expression I'd rarely seen during our marriage: a genuine, soft smile that reached his eyes.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I ducked behind one of the lobby's decorative columns. I needed a minute—or five—to collect myself. The sight of them together stirred something both terrifying and strangely comforting.

Ella's tiny hand in Ethan's much larger one created an image I'd never allowed myself to imagine.

I took several deep breaths, smoothing down my blouse, and approached them.

"Mommy!" Ella's excited voice rang out the moment she spotted me. She immediately wriggled free from Ethan's grasp and ran toward me with arms outstretched, her blue eyes—so like her father's—sparkling with joy.

I scooped her up, hugging her tightly against my chest. "Hey, sweetie. Having fun?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady while watching Ethan straighten up, his eyes never leaving us.

"He helped me climb all the way to the top!" Ella announced proudly.

Mrs. Wilson hurried over, looking slightly flustered. "Dr. Thompson, I was just about to call you. Mr. Black is the gentleman Ella accidentally bumped into in the elevator last week. He came by to drop off a toy as an apology, though I assured him it wasn't necessary."

I nodded slowly, studying Ethan's face. Was this just another calculated move? Had he figured out Ella was his daughter and was now trying to get close to her? The thought sent ice through my veins.

"It's no trouble," Ethan said, his voice measured as he approached us. "Ella is quite the climber. She's fearless."

"Like her mother," I said pointedly, setting Ella down but keeping her hand firmly in mine.

Mrs. Wilson seemed to sense the tension. "Ella, why don't we go check if Mrs. Garcia has those cookies ready?"

Once they were out of earshot, Ethan's expression changed, the corporate mask slipping just enough to reveal genuine emotion.

"I didn't come here to intrude," he said, his voice low. "I had no idea I'd run into Ella in the lobby. But there's something about her, Amelia." His eyes fixed on mine with unsettling intensity. "I can't explain it, but she gives me this feeling of connection. Like... like she could be my child."

His words were like a key, unlocking the long-buried lock in my heart. Seeing the genuine confusion and longing in his eyes, and then looking at Ella’s innocent smile, I knew I could no longer keep this secret.

"Ella is your daughter. And Lucas... he's your son, too," I admitted, feeling a bit strange saying it after keeping it secret for so long. "But we’re divorced. They are my kids."

Ethan's face went completely blank, then a storm of emotions crossed his features.

"Really?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "So all these years... what exactly have I missed, Amelia?"

"I won't stop you from seeing her," I said, ignoring his question. "But if you think you can use your family's lawyers to fight me for custody, I will fight back with everything I have."

His eyes turned cold. "Is that really what you think of me? That I'd use legal means to take a child from her mother?"

We moved to the complex's small patio area for privacy, and I asked Mrs. Wilson to take Ella upstairs. The tension between us was thick enough to cut with a scalpel.

"I would never," Ethan said firmly, "attempt to take Ella from you through legal channels or otherwise. I meant what I said before, Amelia. Every word. Including my intentions to win you back."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," I warned.

"I always keep my word," he replied simply.

Back in my apartment, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about our conversation.

Mrs. Wilson brought me a cup of tea, her face lined with concern. "That man downstairs... is he the kids' father?"

I nodded, too exhausted to deny it.

"The Black family has powerful lawyers," she said worriedly. "Do you think he might try to—"

"No," I interrupted. "He won't. Whatever else Ethan might be, he wouldn't do that."

My phone buzzed with a message from Olivia. Her mother had found out about her miscarriage and her previous relationship with Noah. I texted back immediately, promising to visit the Bennett home to apologize.

"Mrs. Garcia," I called into the kitchen, "I won't be home for dinner tonight."

She poked her head out, spatula in hand. "Are you sure, Dr. Thompson? You've been working so hard lately. Perhaps I should come with you?"

I smiled and reassured her, "Thanks, Mrs. Garcia. I know my body. I'm just going to a friend's place for a bit, it’s no big deal."

As I was loading the things I bought for Mrs. Bennett into the car, I kept thinking about Ethan’s reaction. The shock in his eyes seemed genuine, and his love for Ella felt real too.

Would he be a good dad?