“You were hired to clean,” he said, clinging to control.
Ethan’s shoulders slumped. Something broke inside Andrew.
Emily straightened, her voice steady. “Ethan doesn’t just need a clean house. He needs affection. He needs to be seen as a child, not a tragedy. He cries when you leave. He wakes from nightmares. He’s afraid you’ll disappear too.”
Andrew froze. “How do you know that?”
“Because I stay with him,” she said softly. “I talk to him. I hold his hand. Someone has to.”
The truth spilled from Andrew before he could stop it. “I installed cameras. I watch when I’m not here.”
Emily recoiled. “You were spying on me?”
“Did you see me hurt him?” she asked through tears. “Or did you see me love him?”
She grabbed her bag. “Then fire me. Fire me for making your son smile.”
Panic surged. “Wait,” Andrew said, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how to be his father anymore. I see the accident every time I look at him. I’m lost.”
He cried there in the kitchen, stripped of everything but grief.
Emily set her bag down and touched his arm. “You need help. And Ethan needs you now.”
“I’m scared,” he whispered.
“Of losing him?” she asked.
He nodded.
She hugged him. “He’s here. Love him now.”