Natalie’s POV

Three years.

That was how long it took me to stop waking up expecting to hear Tobias Calloway’s footsteps outside my door.

Three years to learn that silence could be peaceful when nobody was using it to punish you.

Three years to build a life that had nothing to do with him.

And three years to become someone I barely recognized when I looked in the mirror.

The first year was the hardest.

I was pregnant, alone, broke, and terrified.

There were mornings when I sat on the edge of my bed with one hand pressed against my stomach, staring at the bills scattered across the floor and wondering how I was supposed to bring a child into a life that I was barely holding together myself.

I had no family to call.

No husband to lean on.

No one waiting outside the hospital.

Just me.

And the tiny heartbeat inside me that I hadn't even heard yet.

I remember the first time the doctor let me hear it.

Fast.

Steady.

Alive.

I lay there completely still, staring at the ceiling while the sound filled the room.

For a few seconds, I forgot about Tobias.

I forgot about the divorce.

I forgot about my mother.

I forgot about the house I'd left behind and the two years I'd spent being punished for something I hadn't done.

There was only that heartbeat.

My baby.

My eyes filled before I could stop them.

"He's healthy," the doctor said.

I swallowed hard.

"He's a boy?"

She smiled.

"Looks like it."

A boy.

I turned my face toward the window because I didn't want her to see me cry.

I had never felt so happy and so terrified at the same time.

That night, I sat alone in my tiny apartment with the ultrasound photograph in my hand.

I stared at the little shape on the paper for what felt like hours.

Then I whispered the name I'd been thinking about since the doctor told me.

"Ethan."

My fingers trembled as I touched the photograph.

"Ethan Ashton."

I smiled through my tears.

He wouldn't carry Tobias's name.

He wouldn't carry the Calloway family's shadow.

He would be mine.

And I would spend the rest of my life making sure he never had to wonder whether he was wanted.

---

Pregnancy didn't make my life easier.

It made everything harder.

There were days I threw up in the bathroom at work, washed my face, fixed my lipstick, and went right back to my desk because I couldn't afford to lose my job.

There were nights when my feet were so swollen that I sat on the edge of my bed massaging them while trying to finish spreadsheets on my laptop.

Sometimes I cried.

Not because I regretted Ethan.

Never that.

I cried because I was exhausted.

Because I was scared.

Because there were moments when I desperately wanted someone to tell me that I was going to be okay.

But there was nobody.

So I learned to tell myself.

You're going to be okay, Natalie.

You have to be.

You don't have another choice.

When Ethan was born, I understood what it meant to be terrified of loving something.

He was so small.

So impossibly small.

They placed him against my chest, and he immediately started crying.

I laughed.

Then I cried.

Then I kissed his forehead until the nurse had to remind me that he needed to be cleaned.

"Hi," I whispered to him.

His tiny fingers curled around mine.

"I've been waiting for you."

There was no Tobias.

No family.

No one standing beside my bed taking photographs.

But somehow, when I looked at Ethan, I didn't feel alone anymore.

I had him.

And he had me.

That had to be enough.

It became enough.

Eventually.

---

The first six months nearly killed me.

Not literally.

But there were nights when Ethan cried until my whole body ached from exhaustion, and I would sit on the floor beside his crib with my head against the wall and wonder how mothers were supposed to survive this.

Then he'd finally stop crying.

I'd look down.

Those little eyes would be staring back at me.

And I'd pick him up again.

"Okay," I'd whisper. "Okay, Mommy's here."

I was always there.

Even when I was tired.

Even when I was broke.

Even when I had no idea what I was doing.

I was there.

And somewhere between feeding him at two in the morning and working until midnight, I started building something else.

Ashton Financial began with one client.

A failing company nobody wanted to touch.

Their books were a disaster. Their investors were threatening to walk. Three accountants had already quit.

I saw the problem in less than a day.

I fixed it in three weeks.

The owner asked me how much I wanted.

I gave him a number.

He laughed.

Then he paid it.

That money became another client.

Then another.

Then another.

I stopped working for people who could afford me and started working for people who needed me.

Companies everyone else had already given up on.

I didn't care.

I'd spent enough of my life being told I was impossible to save.

I knew what it felt like to be written off.

So I learned how to save things.

Companies.

Careers.

People's livelihoods.

And eventually, people started saying my name.

Not Kale.

Not Calloway.

Ashton.

Natalie Ashton.

CEO of Ashton Financial.

I liked the sound of it.

It sounded like a woman who didn't need permission.

---

Three years after I left New York, I walked into a Manhattan ballroom wearing a black dress that had cost more than the first car I'd ever owned.

My hair was pinned back.

My makeup was simple.

My heels were high enough to hurt.

I didn't care.

I had spent three years becoming someone nobody could look at and call helpless.

Ethan was across the room with his nanny, sitting at a small table with a plate of cake in front of him.

He hated formal events.

I couldn't blame him.

Neither did I.

"Mommy!"

I glanced over.

He waved at me with frosting on his cheek.

I smiled.

"Don't eat the entire cake."

He nodded seriously.

Then immediately took another bite.

I laughed under my breath.

And that's when I felt it.

Someone watching me.

I looked across the ballroom.

Tobias.

My heart stopped.

Not fluttered.

Not raced.

Stopped.

For three years, I'd imagined seeing him again.

I'd imagined anger.

I'd imagined satisfaction.

I'd imagined nothing at all.

I hadn't imagined this.

He looked older.

Not old.

Just... different.

His face was harder.

There were faint lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before.

His suit fit perfectly.

His expression didn't.

He was staring at me as though he'd forgotten how to breathe.

I turned away.

I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd affected me.

A minute later, I heard his voice behind me.

"Natalie."

I took a sip of champagne.

"Mr. Calloway."

He came around to face me.

His eyes moved over my face slowly.

"You changed your name."

"Yes."

"To Ashton."

"That's generally what happens when you change your name."

His jaw tightened.

"You've been avoiding me."

I smiled faintly.

"I've been busy."

"Three years is a long time to be busy."

"Not when you're building a company."

His eyes narrowed.

"Ashton Financial."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You've heard of it?"

"Everyone has."

"Then I'm glad the work is speaking for itself."

Something flickered across his face.

Pride?

I almost laughed at the thought.

"You could have told me you were back."

I looked at him.

"Why?"

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

That almost made me smile.

Three years ago, Tobias Calloway could have made me afraid with one look.

Now he couldn't even find the words to ask me why I had disappeared.

"I don't think we have anything to discuss," I said.

"We do."

"No, Tobias."

He stepped closer.

"I just want to talk."

"I don't."

His eyes darkened.

"You can't just walk away from me."

I stared at him.

"Actually, I can."

Then I walked away.

I didn't look back.

Not even once.

But I could feel his eyes following me.

---

Tobias’s POV

I had spent three years convincing myself that Natalie didn't matter.

Three years telling myself that whatever happened to her after the divorce was none of my concern.

Three years pretending I had forgotten.

I hadn't.

I remembered stupid things.

Things that should have disappeared years ago.

The way she used to drink her coffee.

Black.

No sugar.

The way she would leave my cup beside my laptop before I even asked.

The way she never complained when I ignored her.

The way she used to sit quietly at the dining table while I worked.

I remembered the little things because apparently my mind had decided those were the things worth torturing me with.

And then there was the day she left.

I remembered that too.

The suitcase.

The quiet.

The way she'd looked at me.

She hadn't begged.

She hadn't cried.

She hadn't even looked angry.

She'd looked relieved.

Like leaving me was the first good thing that had happened to her in years.

I hated remembering that.

Because every time I did, I saw myself exactly as she must have seen me.

A monster.

"Tobias."

Tamara's voice pulled me back.

I looked at her.

She was standing beside me, smiling for the photographers.

"What?"

"You're staring."

"At what?"

She glanced toward Natalie.

Her smile disappeared.

"Her?"

I said nothing.

Tamara's fingers tightened around my arm.

"Why is she here?"

"I don't know."

"You need to make her leave."

My eyes hardened.

"No."

Tamara stared at me.

"Why not?"

"Because she hasn't done anything."

"Yet."

I looked at her.

"Tamara."

She swallowed.

"She'll destroy everything."

"She's running a financial company."

"She's getting too powerful."

I looked back across the room.

Natalie was laughing softly at something one of the businessmen had said.

I hadn't seen her laugh like that in years.

She looked happy.

Really happy.

Without me.

Something twisted unpleasantly in my chest.

"Leave it alone," I said.

Tamara's expression hardened.

"You still care about her."

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

Tamara heard it.

So did I.

Neither of us said anything.

Then I saw the boy.

He was standing beside the nanny, holding a little toy car in one hand.

Dark hair.

Dark eyes.

A small, serious face.

I don't know what happened to me in that moment.

One second I was standing there listening to Tamara breathe beside me.

The next, I couldn't hear anything.

My attention had narrowed to that child.

There was something about him.

Something I couldn't name.

I stared at him longer than I should have.

He looked familiar.

Not because I'd seen him before.

I knew I hadn't.

But something about his face pulled at a place in my memory I couldn't reach.

The shape of his eyes.

The dark hair.

The way his brows drew together as he concentrated on the toy in his hands.

It was ridiculous.

He was just a child.

Yet I couldn't look away.

Then the boy glanced up.

Our eyes met.

Something went through me.

I couldn't explain it.

It wasn't recognition.

It wasn't certainty.

It was something stranger.

A feeling.

An uncomfortable, almost instinctive feeling that made my stomach tighten.

I found myself walking toward him before I'd even decided to move.

Natalie noticed.

The moment she saw me coming, her entire expression changed.

She moved toward the boy.

Too quickly.

Too protectively.

I stopped in front of her.

"Who's that?"

She didn't answer immediately.

Her hand closed around the child's.

"My son."

I looked at him again.

"What's his name?"

"Ethan."

The boy looked at me curiously.

"Ethan what?"

Natalie's eyes met mine.

"Ethan Ashton."

I nodded slowly.

"How old is he?"

"Three."

Three.

I looked at Ethan again.

Three years old.

The number shouldn't have meant anything.

It shouldn't have made my pulse change.

It shouldn't have made me look back at Natalie.

But it did.

Because three years ago, she'd disappeared.

And now she was standing in front of me with a three-year-old child.

I forced the thought away immediately.

It was absurd.

There were millions of children in New York.

Dark hair and dark eyes didn't mean anything.

A child looking vaguely like me didn't mean anything.

Still, I couldn't stop staring.

Natalie noticed.

Her fingers tightened around Ethan's hand.

"What do you want, Tobias?"

I looked at her.

"I asked you a question."

"And I answered."

Something in her voice told me the conversation was over.

I looked at Ethan once more.

He was still watching me.

There was no fear in his eyes.

Only curiosity.

The strange feeling in my chest grew stronger.

I didn't like it.

I didn't understand it.

And I definitely wasn't going to admit that for one irrational second, looking at that boy had made me wonder whether there was some connection I didn't know about.

There couldn't be.

Natalie wouldn't have—

No.

I stopped the thought before it could finish.

"What?"

Natalie's voice pulled me back.

I realized I had been staring at her.

"Nothing."

She didn't believe me.

I could tell from the way her expression hardened.

She took Ethan's hand and stepped around me.

"We're leaving."

I watched them walk away.

I didn't follow.

I couldn't.

Not because I didn't want to.

Because for the first time in three years, I had no idea what I wanted.

I stood there long after Natalie disappeared into the crowd, my eyes fixed on the doorway she'd gone through.

Three years.

A new name.

A successful company.

A child she'd never mentioned.

And a feeling I couldn't explain.

I told myself it was nothing.

It had to be nothing.

But as I looked toward the empty doorway, one question refused to leave my mind.

Who the hell was Ethan Ashton?