Mom, Don't Cry! Here comes a new Daddy! novel Chapter 138

Chapter 122

(Kate’s POV)

I don’t go straight home after Ethan leaves.

Instead, I sit at that empty table in a restaurant I’ve been coming to for forty years, drinking wine I can’t taste and watching the city lights blur through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The waiter approaches twice to ask if I need anything. I wave him away both times.

What I need, he can’t provide.

My phone buzzes. Rosalie.+

et you?

Grandmother, are you still at the restaurant? Should I come get you!

I ignore it.

After another twenty minutes, the restaurant manager appears. A young man in an expensive suit who wasn’t born the last time I dined here with my husband.

“Mrs. Hale,” he says carefully. “We’re preparing to close for the evening. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“No. Thank you. I’ll leave.”

I gather my things. Walk out into the cold night air.

My driver is waiting. Has been waiting for over an hour without complaint.

“Home, Mrs. Hale?”

“The penthouse. Ethan’s building.”

“Of course.”

I settle into the back seat and watch the city pass by.

People on sidewalks. Couples holding hands. Families heading home after dinners that probably went better than mine.

Everyone living their small lives. Unaware of the weight that comes with a name like Hale.

That’s what Ethan doesn’t understand.

What Sabrina will never understand.

A name like ours isn’t just a name. It’s a legacy. A responsibility. A burden that you carry whether you want

to or not.

built this empire from almost nothing. Took my husband’s failing import business and turned it into something that matters. Something that lasts.

Chapter 123-

I did that by being careful. By thinking ten steps ahead. By understanding that every decision has consequences that ripple out for generations.

Ethan thinks I’m being cruel.

He’s wrong.

I’m being careful. There’s a difference.

Clams

The car pulls up to Ethan’s building. I take the private elevator to the penthouse. Rosalie is there, already packing her things.

“Grandmother,” she says when she sees me. “I got Ethan’s message. We have until tomorrow afternoon to

move out.”

“I saw it.”

“What happened after we left?”

“He chose her.”

Rosalie’s hands still on the suitcase she’s folding clothes into. “He actually said that?”

“Not in those words. But the meaning was clear.” I walk to the window. Look out at the same view Ethan looks at every morning. “He told me to accept her or lose him. So I suppose I’m losing him.”

“You’re not losing him. He’s just angry. He’ll calm down and-”

“No. He won’t.” I turn to face her. “Because he loves her/Exactly the way Stephen claimed to love Evelyn.”

Something in my voice makes Rosalie look up.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing. When love becomes everything. When it blinds you to reality. When it makes you weak.”

“Grandmother-”

“You didn’t know Evelyn. Ethan’s mother. She was extraordinary. Brilliant. Kind. Everything a Hale spouse should be.” I sit in the chair by the window. The one Ethan probably sits in when he’s thinking. “Stephen. loved her. Obsessively. She was his entire world.”

Rosalie sets down the dress she’s holding. Comes to sit across from me.

“What happened?”

I don’t talk about this. Haven’t talked about it in over twenty years.

But tonight, with Ethan’s words still ringing in my ears and the weight of what I’m about to lose pressing down on me, i find I need to tell someone.

“She got sick. Brain tumor, Inoperable but treatable. The doctors said with aggressive treatment, she could have three to five more years. Maybe longer. Time to watch Ethan grow. Time to prepare him. Time to say goodbye properly.”

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Rosalie is very still. “What did she choose?”

“She didn’t get to choose. Stephen chose for her.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He couldn’t handle it. The diagnosis. The reality that she was dying. It was too much stress, he said. Too much pressure. So he left.”

Rosalie’s eyes widen. “He left her?”

“Not officially. He stayed married. Stayed in the house. But he wasn’t there. Not really. He threw himself into work. Started traveling constantly. And when he was home-” I close my eyes. “When he was home, he was drunk. Or with other women. Or both.”

“But Ethan-”

“Ethan was six years old. He doesn’t remember most of it. Doesn’t know that his father spent the last year of his mother’s life running away from her. Partying while she underwent treatments alone. Sleeping with women who didn’t remind him of death.”

Rosalie’s hand covers her mouth. “That’s horrible.”

“It’s human. Weak. But human.” I open my eyes. “Evelyn fought that tumor for eighteen months instead of the three to five years she could have had. Not because the treatments failed. Because she gave up. Because watching her husband abandon her was worse than the cancer. Because love-that beautiful, all-consuming love Stephen claimed to have for her-couldn’t survive the test of her illness.”

“Did Ethan ever find out?”

“No. And he never will. As far as he knows, his mother died despite everyone’s best efforts. That his father was devastated. That love wasn’t enough to save her.”

“But you know the truth.”

“I know that love makes people vulnerable. That it gives others the power to destroy you. And that when things get hard-when society judges, when pressure mounts, when the reality of a situation becomes uncomfortable-even the strongest love can crack.”

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