Elena's POV
Three hours.
Ethan had been in surgery for three hours, and I was slowly losing my mind.
I paced the surgical waiting room, counting my steps. Seventeen from the door to the window. Seventeen back. Over and over until the numbers blurred together and meant nothing.
Adrian sat in one of the plastic chairs, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He hadn't moved in an hour.
We hadn't spoken since they'd wheeled Ethan away.
What was there to say? Our son was on an operating table, and all we could do was wait and pray and fall apart quietly.
Maya had brought coffee that went cold. Brought sandwiches nobody could eat. She sat in the corner, her eyes red from crying, trying to be strong for me.
But I didn't want strong right now. I wanted my son safe and healthy and awake.
"Ms. Hart?"
I spun around so fast I almost fell. Dr. Winters stood in the doorway, still in surgical scrubs.
My heart stopped. It was too soon. Surgery was supposed to take five hours minimum.
"Is he—" I couldn't finish the question.
"Ethan is stable," Dr. Winters said quickly, and I nearly collapsed with relief. "The surgery went well. We successfully repaired the valve defect."
"He's okay?" My voice broke. "He's really okay?"
"He'll need time to recover, but yes. Your son is going to be fine."
I started crying. Huge, gasping sobs that I couldn't control. Maya was beside me instantly, holding me up.
Adrian stood, his face pale. "Can we see him?"
"He's in recovery now. Once he's moved to ICU and stable, you can see him for a few minutes." Dr. Winters smiled gently. "He's a fighter, that one. Gave us a scare when his blood pressure dropped, but he pulled through beautifully."
A scare. His blood pressure dropped. Things that could have killed him.
But he was alive. My baby was alive.
"Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you so much."
Dr. Winters squeezed my shoulder and left to check on other patients.
The moment she was gone, I felt Adrian's presence behind me.
"Elena—"
"Don't." I held up a hand, still crying. "Just... don't right now."
I needed to process this alone. Needed to feel my relief and terror without Adrian Blackwell complicating everything.
But of course he didn't listen.
"He's going to be okay," Adrian said, and his voice was thick with emotion. "Our son is going to be okay."
Our son. He kept saying that, like he had any right to claim Ethan.
"He was always going to be okay," I lied, because admitting how scared I'd been felt like tempting fate. "Ethan's strong."
"He gets that from you."
I turned to face Adrian, anger cutting through my relief. "Don't do that. Don't act like you know anything about him or me."
"I know you're the strongest person I've ever met." Adrian's dark eyes held mine. "I know you survived what I did to you and built a life. I know you raised an incredible child completely alone. I know—"
"You don't know anything!" My voice rose, making Maya and the few other people in the waiting room look over. I didn't care. "You know what you see right now. You don't know the nights I cried myself to sleep. You don't know how many times I almost gave up. You don't know what it was like being pregnant and alone and terrified."
Adrian flinched like I'd slapped him. "You're right. I don't know because you didn't tell me—"
"Because you didn't deserve to know!"
The words hung in the air between us, sharp and final.
"Ms. Hart?" A nurse appeared. "Ethan is awake and asking for you."
I pushed past Adrian without another word.
Ethan looked so small in that hospital bed, surrounded by machines and tubes. But his eyes were open, and when he saw me, he smiled.
"Mama."
"Hi, baby." I was at his side instantly, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his hands. "How do you feel?"
"Sleepy. And my chest hurts."
"I know, sweetheart. But the doctors fixed your heart. You're going to get all better now."
Ethan's eyes drifted closed, then opened again. "Where's the sad man?"
"What sad man?"
"The one from before. With the dark eyes like mine."
My heart clenched. Adrian. Ethan was asking about Adrian.
"He's... he's in the waiting room."
"Can he come in? I liked him."
No. Every instinct screamed no. I wanted to keep Adrian away, to protect Ethan from the man who'd destroyed me.
But looking at my son's hopeful face, I couldn't say no to him.
"Okay, baby. I'll get him."
I stepped into the hallway where Adrian was hovering near the door. He looked at me with desperate hope.
"He's asking for you," I said quietly.
Adrian's whole face transformed. "Really?"
"Don't make a big deal out of it. He's tired and confused from the anesthesia."
"I won't." Adrian moved toward the door, then stopped. "Elena, thank you."
"I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Ethan."
"I know."
We walked into the room together, and Ethan's eyes lit up when he saw Adrian.
"You came," Ethan said sleepily.
"I promised I would." Adrian approached the bed carefully, like Ethan might break. "How are you feeling, buddy?"
"My chest hurts. But Mama says I'm going to be all better now."
"That's right. You're very brave."
Ethan yawned. "Will you tell me a story? Mama's stories are good, but she always cries at the sad parts."
Adrian glanced at me, asking permission. I nodded stiffly.
"Okay," Adrian said, sitting in the chair beside Ethan's bed. "Once upon a time, there was a prince who made a terrible mistake..."
I watched Adrian tell my son a story—a fairy tale about a foolish prince who lost his treasure and spent years searching for it. His voice was gentle, patient, nothing like the cold businessman I remembered.
Ethan's eyes drooped as he listened, fighting sleep.
"Did the prince find his treasure?" Ethan asked.
Adrian's eyes met mine across the bed. "He did. But he learned that finding it was just the beginning. He had to prove he deserved to keep it."
"That's a weird story," Ethan mumbled, already half asleep.
"Yeah, buddy. It is."
Within minutes, Ethan was out, his breathing deep and even.
Adrian stood slowly, his eyes never leaving Ethan's face. "He's perfect."
"I know."
"Elena, I—"
"Don't." I cut him off. "Whatever you're about to say, don't. Not here. Not now."
"We have to talk eventually."
"Fine. But not today." I was so tired, so emotionally drained. "Today I just want to sit with my son and be grateful he's alive."
Adrian nodded and moved toward the door. But before he left, he turned back.
"I meant what I said earlier. I'm not walking away from him. Or from you."
"You don't get a vote in the 'me' part of that equation."
"Maybe not. But I'm going to try anyway."
He left before I could argue.
I sank into the chair beside Ethan's bed and took his small hand in mine. He was here. He was alive. The surgery was over.
We'd survived.
But as I sat there in the quiet hospital room, I knew this was just the beginning of a much harder battle.
Because Adrian Blackwell wasn't going away. He'd found us, discovered Ethan, and now he wanted back into our lives.
And the terrifying part? A small piece of me—the piece that still remembered loving him—wasn't sure I wanted to say no.
Two days later, Ethan was recovering well. The doctors were amazed at how quickly he was bouncing back.
Adrian had been there every day. Bringing books, toys, sitting quietly when Ethan slept. He never pushed, never demanded. Just showed up and stayed.
It was driving me crazy.
On the third day, Maya pulled me aside in the hallway.
"We have a problem," she said, her phone in her hand.
"What kind of problem?"
"The Sterling merger meeting. It's tomorrow at two. The board is demanding your presence."
My stomach dropped. The merger. I'd completely forgotten.
"Cancel it," I said immediately.
"Elena, you can't. You own the deciding shares. If you don't show up, the deal falls through, and E.L. Hart Enterprises loses millions."
"I don't care about the money—"
"But the board does. And the investors. And the employees who depend on those contracts." Maya's face was sympathetic but firm. "You have to go."
She was right. I couldn't let my personal life destroy what I'd built.
"Fine," I said. "I'll go to the meeting."
"There's one more thing." Maya hesitated. "Adrian Blackwell will be there. He's presenting the merger proposal."
Of course he was.
I'd have to sit across from Adrian in a boardroom and pretend to be the professional CEO of E.L. Hart Enterprises while he finally learned the truth.
That the powerful businesswoman he needed approval from was the wife he'd thrown away.
"This should be interesting," I muttered.
Maya bit her lip. "Elena, when he finds out E.L. Hart is you—"
"Let him find out." I straightened my shoulders. "Maybe it's time Adrian Blackwell learned exactly what he lost."
The next day, I stood outside the boardroom in my best power suit, my armor firmly in place.
Inside that room, Adrian was about to discover that the woman whose signature he desperately needed was the same woman carrying his child when he'd divorced her.
I pushed open the door.
The room went silent.
And Adrian Blackwell's face went absolutely white as he realized the truth.