Chapter 7 - The First Time They Called Him Dad“SO YOU'RE REALLY OUR DADDY?”
Ethan stood in the middle of Emma's living room, clutching his rocket notebook.
Nathan crouched in front of him.
“Yes,” he answered softly.
Ethan frowned.
“Then why didn't you come when we were babies?”
The question felt like a hand closing around Nathan's heart.
He looked toward Emma.
She sat beside Noah on the couch, her expression careful but encouraging.
They had prepared for this conversation together.
A counselor had helped Emma explain that young children needed the truth in words they could understand.
The twins had also been given time to ask questions without being rushed toward affection.
A properly administered DNA test had confirmed Nathan's biological relationship to both boys.
The result didn't surprise Emma.
But it mattered legally, and Nathan wanted the children to grow up without any uncertainty about where they came from.
He turned back toward Ethan.
“I didn't know you were here,” he said.
Ethan considered that.
“Mommy knew.”
“Yes.”
“Grandpa Russo knew.”
“Yes.”
“Even Mrs. Walker knew.”
Nathan's eyes filled.
“A lot of people knew about you. But someone kept me from finding out.”
Ethan tilted his head.
“Why?”
Nathan took a slow breath.
“That's a grown-up problem. It wasn't because of anything you or Noah did.”
Noah slid off the couch.
“Did you get lost?”
Nathan looked at him.
“In a way, I did.”
Noah held out the little dinosaur Nathan had repaired at the library.
“You can have him again.”
Nathan smiled.
“Thank you.”
“He can help you find your way.”
For a moment, Nathan couldn't speak.
Emma looked away.
She remembered the hospital.
The alarms.
The unbearable fear of losing two babies before she'd even held them properly.
She remembered pushing a double stroller through winter snow after her car broke down.
She remembered telling her sons bedtime stories while calculating whether there was enough money left for milk.
And now the man who should have shared those moments was sitting on her living room floor, learning that Noah believed a plastic dinosaur could help people find their way home.
Emma felt anger.
Grief.
And, against her better judgment, a small flicker of hope.
Nathan spent the next hour building a cardboard rocket with Ethan and arranging Noah's dinosaurs around its landing site.
They argued over whether dinosaurs could survive on Mars.
Ethan insisted the atmosphere was wrong.
Noah announced that his triceratops would simply wear a helmet.
Nathan laughed so hard that Emma had to turn away to hide her smile.
For the first time, the apartment felt less like a place where people were surviving and more like a place where something new might begin.
But when Nathan prepared to leave, Noah followed him to the door.
“Are you going away forever?”
Nathan knelt.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
He resisted the instinct to promise the impossible.
“I plan to come back on Saturday. Your mom and I agreed on that.”
Noah looked at Emma.
She nodded.
“That's right.”
Noah considered it.
“Okay.”
Then he wrapped his small arms around Nathan's neck.
The hug lasted only a few seconds.
But Nathan remained kneeling after Noah ran back into the living room.
Emma quietly handed him his coat.
“Saturday,” she reminded him.
“I'll be here.”
“Ten o'clock.”
“Ten o'clock.”
She studied his face.
“Nathan, the boys need consistency more than anything.”
“I know.”
“No, you need to understand how serious I am. If you start showing up, you can't disappear when things become uncomfortable.”
Nathan looked toward the living room.
“I've spent years showing up for meetings that didn't matter. I can show up for my sons.”
Emma didn't answer immediately.
Then she opened the door.
“We'll see.”
Nathan kept his promise.
Saturday morning, he arrived at nine fifty-five carrying bagels, juice, and a small package of construction paper.
He left the expensive gifts behind.
They spent the morning making paper planets.
At noon, he helped Emma wash dishes while the twins played in their bedroom.
It was the most ordinary afternoon Nathan could remember.
And somehow, it felt more valuable than every luxury apartment he had ever sold.
But later that evening, reality returned.
Rebecca arrived at Nathan's penthouse carrying financial records obtained through public filings and information supplied by an independent investigator.
Although she was still formally employed by the Harrison organization, she had refused to participate in Richard's attempts to discredit Nathan.
She knew her position was becoming impossible.
“I found the medical debt company,” she said.
Nathan looked up.
“Who owns it?”
“A firm called Aster Recovery Partners. They purchase portfolios of unpaid medical accounts.”
Nathan took the folder.
“Emma's account?”
“It's included in a portfolio acquired three years ago.”
Nathan reviewed the documents.
The medical debt had originally been owed to the hospital and associated providers.
Some claims had been transferred through collection agencies.
Others carried disputed fees.
The final balance remained crushing for someone living on Emma's salary.
“Who controls Aster?” he asked.
Rebecca opened a second folder.
“The ownership is layered through several companies.”
Nathan scanned the names.
One holding company.
Then another.
Then a private investment trust.
His eyes stopped on the final document.
Harrison Family Capital.
Nathan looked up slowly.
“My father?”
Rebecca nodded.
“Through a controlling interest.”
Nathan sat back.
Richard had known about the boys.
He had known about their dangerous premature birth.
He had known Emma was struggling.
And through one of his investment companies, he had acquired a financial interest in the medical debt that kept her trapped.
“Did he specifically purchase Emma's account?” Nathan asked.
“We don't know yet. Aster bought a larger portfolio. But someone later flagged her file for special handling.”
Nathan stared at the words.
Special handling.
He knew the phrase.
His father used it for matters that required personal attention without attracting public scrutiny.
Rebecca placed one final page on the desk.
“There was a collection lawsuit prepared against Emma last month. It hasn't resulted in a judgment, but the creditor is seeking repayment.”
Nathan felt his anger rising.
“She's been choosing between groceries and hospital bills.”
Rebecca nodded.
“And the collection records show that her account was reviewed repeatedly by someone using an internal authorization tied to your father's office.”
Nathan looked toward the photograph of Ethan and Noah on his desk.
Two boys sitting together on the library carpet.
Smiling.
Safe for the moment.
His voice became dangerously quiet.
“He watched them grow up through financial reports.”
Rebecca said nothing.
Nathan turned the final page.
A handwritten instruction appeared beneath Emma's account number.
Maintain pressure until residential relocation is completed.
The instruction had been initialed.
R.H.
May you like
Nathan realized Richard hadn't simply ignored the suffering of his grandchildren.
He had found a way to use it.
Related Stories
