Ethan's POV
Ethan's mind raced as he watched Bella take a step back, her sharp intake of breath making his pulse quicken. Five years. Five long, agonizing years since he last held her, and yet, in this moment, nothing had changed. Not really. Her eyes still had the same fire, the same vulnerability he had tried to bury, but had never fully succeeded in letting go of.
He had thought he was prepared for this—prepared for the possibility of seeing her again, even in the most unexpected of circumstances. But standing before her now, in the midst of a sea of strangers, he realized just how unprepared he truly was.
She looked stunning—more beautiful than ever. Her crimson dress clung to her curves, a striking contrast to the elegant simplicity of the gown she had worn the last time they were together. But it wasn't just her appearance that had him captivated; it was the way she carried herself. Her strength. Her poise. She was no longer the fragile, heartbroken woman he had let slip through his fingers; she was a force to be reckoned with, a woman who had fought hard to rebuild herself.
Ethan swallowed hard. He needed to speak. To make her understand. But the words were tangled in his throat, heavy with years of silence, regret, and an unrelenting desire to fix what had been broken.
"Bella…" he said again, his voice more a plea than a statement.
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into her features as she took another step back. "Ethan," she said softly, but with the edge of caution he'd come to expect from her. "What are you doing here?"
"I came for business," he explained quickly, though the words felt hollow even to him. It wasn't the whole truth. The truth was, he had come for her. He had spent years avoiding this moment, convincing himself that he had moved on, but seeing her now, hearing her voice again—it all shattered the walls he had so carefully built.
"Business?" She raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering over him, as if she could see straight through the mask he had carefully constructed. "Funny. I don't remember you ever being interested in fashion."
"I'm not here for fashion," he replied, his voice firm, but his heart hammering in his chest. "I'm here because I need to talk to you. We need to talk."
Her lips parted in disbelief, and for a moment, it looked as though she might laugh. But there was no humor in her expression—just cold distance. "Talk? About what, exactly? The past? You think I'm just going to let you walk back into my life like it's nothing?"
Ethan's pulse quickened. He had expected her to be angry, but seeing her so closed off—so utterly impenetrable—was a different kind of pain. He reached for her arm instinctively, but she flinched, pulling away as if his touch might burn her.
"I didn't—" He stopped himself, pressing his lips together as frustration surged within him. "I never wanted to hurt you, Bella. I never wanted to—"
"Then why did you?" she interrupted, her voice sharp with the weight of five years' worth of unanswered questions. "Why did you leave me in the dark? Why didn't you tell me the truth? Do you have any idea what that did to me? What you did to me?"
Ethan flinched, the guilt gnawing at him again, as it had done countless times over the years. He had hurt her. He had let her go without a fight. And now, standing here in front of her, he realized just how much it had cost him.
"I didn't want to lose you," he admitted, his voice low and raw. "I thought I was doing what was best for you. But I was wrong. I was a fool, Bella. I should have never let you walk away."
She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for something—anything—that would make this right. But there was no magic phrase, no easy fix for the mess he had made.
"You were right to walk away," she said, her voice thick with unshed emotion. "I couldn't stay with someone who didn't trust me, someone who lied to me, someone who—"
The words caught in her throat, and for a fleeting moment, Ethan saw the vulnerability beneath her fierce exterior. But before he could speak again, the sound of children's laughter interrupted them.
Bella's expression softened for just a moment, her eyes flickering toward the entrance of the ballroom, where a pair of small, familiar figures appeared, both of them laughing and running toward her. Her heart-shaped face broke into a soft smile as the twins, Aiden and Aria, arrived—each one in a matching outfit, a reflection of Bella's strength and beauty.
Aiden's eyes sparkled, blue as the sky, while Aria's were filled with the same fiery spirit that Bella had always possessed. As they reached her, Bella crouched down, pulling them into a tight hug.
"Mommy!" Aria squealed, throwing her arms around Bella's neck.
Ethan's breath caught in his throat. For a moment, the world around him fell away as he watched Bella with the children. There was no denying it—they were his. He could see it in their eyes, in their smiles, in the way they moved. They were his children.
Aiden pulled back slightly and looked up at Ethan, his innocent blue eyes wide with curiosity. "Who's this, Mommy?" he asked, his voice soft but piercing.
Bella froze, her gaze flickering between Ethan and the twins. She hadn't expected this—didn't want to confront the reality of what seeing him again meant. She forced a smile and glanced at Aiden and Aria.
"This is someone from Mommy's past," she said softly, her voice tight, like she was trying to hold onto a secret that was slipping away.
Ethan's chest tightened at her words. He could feel the weight of the truth bearing down on him—the truth he wasn't yet ready to face. But there was no denying it now. His children were standing in front of him, and no matter how much he wanted to deny it, they were his responsibility.
"Mommy," Aiden said again, his little hand tugging at Bella's sleeve. "Can we go home now?"
Bella nodded, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "In a little while, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice full of love. "But right now, Mommy needs to talk to someone."
Ethan's heart thundered in his chest. He couldn't let this moment slip away. He couldn't lose them—not when he had just found them.
"I don't want to hurt you anymore, Bella," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But I need to know… who are they? Are they mine?"
The question hung between them like a fragile thread, stretching thinner with each passing second. Bella's eyes widened, and for a moment, the mask she had so carefully constructed cracked. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the guarded, distant woman who had walked away from him five years ago.
"I think we've said enough for one night," Bella said, her voice steady, but her eyes betraying her emotions. "It's late. I need to get the twins home."
Ethan watched her turn away, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. He had never been good at waiting, but this was different. The years of silence and separation had created a chasm between them that was impossible to bridge in a single conversation. But he wasn't going to give up.
Not now. Not when he had just found out he had a family—his family.