Adrian's POV
My son.
I had a son.
The words kept repeating in my mind like a prayer, like a curse, like something that couldn't possibly be real but was.
I stood in the hospital hallway, phone pressed to my ear, barely hearing the foundation director's voice as he promised to expedite every authorization needed.
"Mr. Blackwell? Are you still there?"
"Get it done," I said roughly. "I don't care what it takes. That child gets surgery tomorrow morning."
"Of course, sir. I'll contact Dr. Winters immediately—"
I hung up without saying goodbye. My hands were shaking.
Four years old. Dark curls. My eyes staring back at me from a small face in a hospital bed.
Elena had been pregnant when I divorced her.
The realization hit me again, stealing my breath. I'd thrown out my pregnant wife. I'd chosen Sophia's lies over Elena's truth. I'd sent her into the world alone, carrying my child, and never looked back.
"Mr. Blackwell?" A voice interrupted my spiral.
I turned to find Dr. Winters approaching, her expression professional but curious.
"I understand you've authorized the surgery," she said.
"Yes. Tomorrow morning. Whatever he needs."
"The boy will need extensive pre-surgical prep tonight, and both parents should be present to sign consent forms—"
"I'll sign whatever you need." The words came out harsh. "Just save him."
Dr. Winters studied me with those sharp eyes. "Ms. Hart mentioned you were a family friend helping with the authorization. But you seem very invested for a friend."
I almost laughed. Family friend. Is that what Elena had told them?
"Where is she?" I asked instead of answering.
"ICU waiting room, I believe. Mr. Blackwell, there are questions on the medical history forms about the father—"
"I'll handle it." I walked away before she could ask more questions.
My mind was racing, trying to piece together five years of missing information. Elena had disappeared so completely that three different private investigators had found nothing. Not a trace, not a whisper, not a single lead.
And now I knew why.
She'd been hiding my son from me.
The anger that thought brought was quickly drowned by guilt. Because why wouldn't she hide him? I'd proven I couldn't be trusted. I'd chosen Sophia over her. I'd thrown her away like she meant nothing.
Of course she'd kept him from me.
I found Elena in the waiting room, standing by the window with her arms wrapped around herself. She looked so different from the soft, gentle girl I'd married. This woman was harder, sharper, built of steel instead of silk.
Beautiful. God, she was still so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
"The authorization is done," I said quietly. "Surgery is scheduled for seven AM tomorrow."
Elena's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me." The words came out bitter. "This is my son too."
She turned, and her eyes were blazing. "Don't start. Not here. Not now."
"Then when, Elena? When do we talk about the fact that you've kept my child from me for four years?"
"Kept him from you?" Her voice rose. "You didn't want us! You made that abundantly clear when you divorced me for your sick girlfriend!"
"She wasn't sick! It was all lies, and I found out the truth months later—"
"I don't care!" Elena's hands were shaking. "Do you think it matters that she lied? You still chose her over me. You still threw me out. You still never came looking—"
"I did look!" The words exploded out of me. "I've been searching for you for five years! I hired investigators, checked hospitals, schools, every city—"
Elena laughed, cold and harsh. "Well, you clearly didn't look hard enough."
"You disappeared completely. Changed your name, covered your tracks—"
"I survived," she corrected. "I built a life for me and my son where nobody could hurt us again."
Her son. Not ours. The distinction was a knife to my chest.
"Elena, please." I took a step toward her. "I know I don't deserve anything from you. I know I failed you in every possible way. But he's my son. You can't keep me away from him."
"Watch me."
"I'll fight you." The threat came out before I could stop it. "I'll take you to court, sue for custody—"
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me." I moved closer, desperation making me reckless. "That's my blood in that hospital bed. My child. And I will burn down everything I've built before I walk away from him."
Elena's eyes widened with something like fear. Good. Let her understand I wasn't the weak man I'd been five years ago.
"You can't just show up and demand rights," she said, but her voice shook. "You don't know him. You weren't there for his first word, his first step, his first day of school—"
"Because you didn't tell me!" My control snapped. "You robbed me of those moments, Elena. You decided I didn't deserve to know my own son existed!"
"You robbed yourself when you chose her over me!"
We stood there, fury and pain crackling between us like lightning.
"Mr. Blackwell? Ms. Hart?" A nurse approached cautiously. "The patient is asking for his mother."
Elena moved immediately, but I followed. She couldn't keep me away. Not anymore.
We walked to Ethan's room together, the tension suffocating.
Through the window, I could see my son sitting up in bed, looking small and scared. His dark curls were messy, his eyes—my eyes—red from crying.
My heart cracked open.
"I should go in alone," Elena said.
"No." I reached for the door handle. "I want to meet him."
"Adrian, don't—"
But I was already pushing the door open, already stepping into the room where my son waited.
Ethan looked up, and his eyes met mine. For a moment, we just stared at each other—father and son, strangers connected by blood.
"Hi," I said softly, my voice breaking. "I'm Adrian. I'm a friend of your mom's."
Friend. The lie tasted like ash.
"Are you a doctor?" Ethan asked, his voice small.
"No, buddy. But I'm here to help make sure you get all better."
Ethan studied me with those too-familiar eyes. "You look sad."
The observation hit me like a punch. Kids saw things adults tried to hide.
"I'm just worried about you," I said honestly.
"Mama says worrying doesn't help. She says I have to be brave."
I glanced at Elena, who stood frozen in the doorway. "Your mama is very smart."
"She's the best mama in the whole world," Ethan said fiercely, and I saw Elena's eyes fill with tears.
"I believe that," I whispered.
Ethan yawned, his little face scrunching up. "I'm sleepy again."
"Then sleep, baby," Elena said, finally moving to his bedside. She kissed his forehead, and I watched her transform into someone I'd never seen—a mother, fierce and tender all at once.
"Mama?" Ethan's eyes were already closing. "Will you stay?"
"Always," Elena promised.
Within minutes, he was asleep.
I stood on the other side of the bed, watching my son breathe, and felt something fundamental shift inside me.
This was real. He was real.
And I'd missed four years of his life.
"We need to talk," I said quietly. "About custody arrangements. About my role in his life going forward."
"There's nothing to discuss." Elena's voice was ice. "You get him through this surgery, and then you disappear."
"That's not happening."
"Adrian—"
"I'm his father, Elena. And I'm not walking away. Not this time. Not ever."
She looked at me with hatred and fear warring in her eyes. "You'll hurt him. Just like you hurt me."
"Then I'll spend the rest of my life proving you wrong." I moved around the bed until we were facing each other over our sleeping son. "I failed you. I know that. But I won't fail him. I swear it."
"Your promises mean nothing."
"Then watch me keep them anyway."
We glared at each other, two enemies bound together by the child between us.
Finally, Elena looked away. "The surgery is in twelve hours. Until then, I don't want to hear another word about custody or arrangements or anything else. All that matters is Ethan getting through this alive."
"Agreed."
"After that..." She paused. "After that, we'll see."
It wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no, either.
I'd take it.
"I'm staying," I said. "Tonight. Here at the hospital."
"Fine. But you stay away from me."
I nodded and moved toward the door. But before I left, I looked back at Ethan one more time.
My son.
Whatever it took, whatever I had to sacrifice, whatever bridges I had to burn—I was going to be part of his life.
And maybe, if I was very lucky and very persistent, I'd find a way back into Elena's life too.
Because looking at her now, seeing the strong, fierce woman she'd become, I realized something terrifying:
I'd never stopped loving her.
Not for a single day in five years.
And now that I'd found her again, I was never letting go.