I swipe my tears away as I near my parents' house. I glance up the rearview mirror and blinked back another rush of tears. Kathie's text wasn't about picking up Ethan. It was to ask if Nathan was doing better.

I just had to grab my ticket out. Out of Sydney's judging lip-gloss smile. Out of my blinding failures Sydney painted into words.

My phone buzzes. I ignored it. It's probably Nathan again, checking for the nth time if everything was okay like I hadn't already replied the first time he texted.

There were still tears that prickle at the back of my eyelids, but I squared my shoulders and climbed out of the car. With bolder steps forward, I entered the house. Closing the door behind me, a smile grew on my lips when I hear Ethan's laughter and Kathie's default hyper voice from the living room.

I paused at the doorway. Kathie and Ethan are hunched over the coffee table, legs tangling on the plush rug. Coloring books are splayed on the table, crayons cluttering.

"You're so excellent at this, sweetie. These are another five stars." Kathie scribbled something on the coloring book.

Ethan grinned and took the book, eyes glimmering at the page where his five stars stares back in commendation. His eyes hoisted from the page and landed on mine. His blue eyes sparkled in recognition.

"Hi, baby."

"Mommy." He scrambled off his seat, coloring book in hand and rushed over to me. His arms stretched out for me as he jumps up and down.

I chuckled, complying to his urgent request. I lifted him off the floor to my arms and branded his forehead with a soft kiss.

"I got five stars. See?" He showed the neatly colored drawing of a cow grazing the grass.

My heart swelled. "Wow. That looks really good."

"Are you proud of me?" He asks giddily.

I peck on his nose. "I am so proud of you, baby. Always will. Let's celebrate with some cookies."

His blue eyes sparkled even bluer, his face brighter. And he has the smile so pure and elated – because I saw the five stars.

I look back into his proud gaze. And knew then, that I did one thing right. This one thing I will never exchange for a less failing career.

Ethan giggles.

"How's daddy?" He flounders from my hold and so I put him back to his feet. He takes my hand, tugging me toward the coffee table.

"I'll go get the cookies," Kathie gushes and stood up, relocating her heels before skidding out of the living room.

Ethan flops back down on the rug, grinning down to his coloring books.

I lowered myself next to him. "He's better now."

"Can we call him?"

I bite down on my lip. "Your daddy's making a few business calls."

He shifted so he's facing me. "We can make it quick."

"And he's with your Aunt Sydney," I say, forcing her name out of my tongue.

Ethan didn't so much as blink, the look on his face unfazed – because in his defense, he had all the right to call because it's his daddy. There was a flicker of demand in his eyes. And reminded me so much of Nathan that it tears at my heart.

I blink once. Then twice, unsuccessful from keeping the blur at bay. I made myself put on a smile.

"But I want to talk to him. Don't you want to talk to him?"

"I do." I slid my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, then faltered as I look down to it suddenly unsure because I needed to lick my wounds before putting myself back out there. Just a few hours to put my armor back, then I'd be ready.

"Mommy?" His tiny hand went over to mine.

I shake my head, forcing a smile. "We'll call." My thumb froze from scrolling through my contacts when I felt his other hand on my cheek.

His brows knitted together. "Mommy, why are you sad?"

I leaned to his palm. Although tiny, it was a sufficient comfort. "I'm not."

"You are. Did daddy make you sad?" His eyes grew wide.

"No," I answered quickly.

He nods, his brows drawing closer. "Then it's Aunt Sydney?" His voice took on an accusatory tone. And he didn't refer to her as Aunt Syd like he used to.

"Ethan." My hands found his shoulders.

He shakes his head and slumped his arms over his chest with a hateful pout. "I don't like her anymore if she's making you sad. I don't like her anymore."

My breath caught in my throat. A clapback came too quickly. I shake my head in disbelief. It was so easy to turn my son against his Aunt Sydney. And Ethan mattered most to his daddy to have his opinion ignored. Hell, Nathan would do his bidding.

Which make it all the more wrong. Regardless of my strong dislike toward her, it was downright insensitive and unfair.

"Baby, your Aunt Syd didn't make me sad, okay?" I found courage for a genuine smile this time. "She's your daddy's good friend."

"But I don't like it when your sad," he murmurs.

My palm cupped his cheek. "I'm just sad because I had a few things in my mind that made me sad."

"Like what? Can I help?"

My heart twisted at that. "Like how I'm going to make you a cake next year on your birthday."

"You can make anything. Daddy and I will eat it, I promise."

I smiled. "Really?"

He nods hurriedly. "Or I'll watch the oven so it wouldn't get burned this time."

"I don't know. Maybe we should just order the cake." I tweak his nose.

"Maybe. Or Daddy and I will help you out."

I laugh. "Aw. Sorry. Your mother's a terrible cook."

"No, you're not." He purses his lips in disagreement. "I like your hugs."

I let out another laugh. "Okay. Good to know."

He scoots closer. "Are you still sad?"

"No."

"Do you want cuddles?"

"Yes." I grinned.

He grins back and nuzzled my chest, his arms going around me. "I love you, mommy."

My heart melted. "I love you too." I kissed the top of his head and draped my arms around him.

My phone rings.

We both stilled.

"Is that daddy?" Ethan lifted his head.

I frowned at my phone. "No. It's my boss."

His eyes rounded at me. "Mommy, are we in trouble?"

"Of course, not. We're fine," I answered, although there was dread settling in the pit of my stomach as I answered Howard's call.

Once upon a time, Kylie Preston had a semi-exciting life. Until her spitfire attitude sparked the interest of notorious playboy, Christian Parkinson. And no matter how many times he was rebuffed, his flowers made it to her desk every single day. Although a cocky nuisance, his persistence advances him past her defenses. And then slowly, but surely, she finds herself stepping out of those defenses.