Elias sat in his apartment, staring at the untouched glass of whiskey on the coffee table. The television was on, some news anchor talking about market trends, but the volume was muted. He didn't need financial noise tonight.
His phone buzzed once.
Aria: Eli just fell asleep. He asked if you'd come read to him tomorrow.
Elias exhaled slowly, then typed back.
Elias: Tell him I wouldn't miss it for the world.
He leaned back against the couch, smiling to himself.
But the smile faded quickly. Something tugged at him—an ache, a guilt he had no name for.
He picked up his phone again and stared at her name.
A moment later, he dialed.
She answered on the second ring. "Hey."
"You're still awake," he said.
"I always am around this time. Eli dreams out loud. I have to listen just in case he starts sleep-talking about dinosaurs taking over the fridge."
Elias chuckled. "Sounds intense."
"It is."
There was a brief pause before he spoke again.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How do you sleep at night?"
Aria didn't answer immediately. "You mean, after everything?"
"Yes," he said quietly. "How do you sleep knowing you raised our son alone? That I didn't even know he existed? That you carried it all without me?"
"I don't always sleep," she admitted. "Some nights, I just lie there and watch him breathe."
"Aria…"
"But it wasn't about punishment, Elias. It was never that."
"I didn't say it was," he said, his voice low.
"I just… I didn't know if you'd want him."
"I would've," he said quickly. "God, Aria, I would've."
"I know that now," she replied. "But back then, everything was a blur. You were angry. We were angry. And I was afraid."
"Of me?"
"Of what loving you had turned me into," she said softly. "And of what losing you might do to a child."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and full.
"I've missed so much," Elias said finally.
"You've got time to make up for it."
"But I can't rewind it."
"No," she said. "Neither can I."
Elias closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the couch.
"Can I come over?" he asked suddenly.
"At midnight?"
"I won't stay long. I just… I need to see him. Even if he's asleep."
She was quiet for a beat. "Okay. Come."
Elias was already grabbing his coat before she ended the call.
Fifteen minutes later, Aria opened the door, her hair pulled into a loose bun, her eyes tired but warm.
"He's asleep," she whispered.
"I know," Elias said. "I just want to see him. One minute."
She stepped aside and let him in. The apartment was dimly lit and quiet, the soft hum of Eli's nightlight glowing under his door.
Elias walked over, opened the door slowly, and stepped inside.
Eli was curled under the covers, arms wrapped around Mr. Snuggles and the new lion toy.
Elias stood by the bed, just watching. His son. His son.
He turned slowly and left the room, closing the door behind him.
When he came back into the living room, Aria was pouring tea.
"You still take sugar?" she asked.
"Two spoons."
She handed him a mug. They sat on the couch in silence for a moment, sipping.
Elias broke it first. "What did you tell him about me?"
"Nothing bad," she said, looking into her cup. "I told him you were busy helping people. That you were far away but that maybe, one day, he'd meet you."
"Why didn't you tell him I left?"
"Because you didn't," she said firmly. "You didn't know. That's not the same."
He nodded, grateful.
Aria added, "He asked me once if he had a daddy. I said yes. He asked if his daddy was lost. I told him maybe. But maybe not forever."
Elias set his tea down. "You didn't have to protect me like that."
"I wasn't protecting you," she said, her voice soft. "I was protecting him."
Another long silence followed.
"You're angry," Aria said suddenly.
Elias looked over, surprised. "What?"
"You're angry, Elias. I can feel it in the way you look at me sometimes. Like you're holding it back."
"I'm not angry," he said. Then paused. "Okay, maybe I am. But not at you. At myself. At time. At everything I missed."
"Then stop missing things," she said simply. "You're here now."
He stared at her.
"That easy, huh?"
"No," she admitted. "Not easy. But simple."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Aria, how do we do this?"
"What do you mean?"
"This… this co-parenting. You and me. We barely talk without dragging the past in. How do we move forward?"
She hesitated. "We focus on him. Not us."
"But you are a part of him," he said. "You always will be."
"And you're a part of me, too. Whether I want it or not."
That hung in the air between them, heavy and complicated.
Elias met her eyes. "Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Want it?"
She looked away. "I want Eli to have peace. And if that means finding common ground with you… then yes. I want it."
He reached out and gently touched her hand. She didn't pull away.
"Do you remember the night we broke up?" she asked quietly.
Elias closed his eyes. "I try not to."
"I remember you walked out and I sat on the kitchen floor for hours."
"I went to the office," he said. "And I stayed there until sunrise."
"I was pregnant and didn't even know."
"And I was lost and didn't ask."
She looked at him now, her gaze steady. "We can't go back."
"I don't want to," he said. "I just want to go forward. With him. And with you… if you'll let me."
She held his gaze for a moment longer, then stood and walked to the door.
"It's late."
He followed her, heart thudding.
At the door, she paused. "You can come tomorrow evening. He likes bedtime stories better from you now."
Elias smiled faintly. "I'll bring a book."
She nodded.
"Aria?"
She turned.
"Thank you. For tonight. For everything."
She gave him a small, sad smile. "Don't thank me. Just keep showing up."
He stepped into the hallway and turned back just before the door closed.
"Goodnight," he said.
"Goodnight, Elias."
And the door clicked shut.
But it wasn't the end.
Not anymore.