Chapter 128

Alaric’s POV

My heart continued to race, even after Ethan interrupted us and Cara walked away. I’d been so close to kissing Cara, to returning us to that same moment we shared all those years ago, when I held her in my arms and kissed her senseless before we retreated upstairs to make love.

No, it wouldn’t have been the same moment. Not this time.

Before, I loved her and didn’t know it. Now, I was fully aware of the extent of my feelings. I wanted to hold her and kiss her and love her for the rest of my life.

Which was precisely why I shouldn’t have almost lost myself just now.

I needed to be better in control of myself, for my own sake as well as for Cara’s. I knew she wanted to go slow this time. She still hadn’t even agreed to allow me to pursue her yet.

If we made out and then made love, we would be falling into old habits. Our physical connection was never our issue. It was our emotional connection that we ever needed to work on. Jumping straight over the emotional to copulate our physical desires would not help us in the long run.

I’d mucked things up majorly in the past. This time, I needed to do things differently. This time, I wanted our relationship to last.

I made no complaints as Cara left. I wouldn’t anyway, as I appreciated that the kids would ever be her first priority. I wanted them to be my first priority too.

When Cara’s gone, I take a moment to just breathe. It takes me too long to realize that Ethan continues to stand in the doorway, glaring at me.

His clear hatred of me hurts me deeply. I wish he could be as quick to accept me as Mia was. But I’m not opposed to working hard to gaining his trust. Ethan is and always will be my son. I will do whatever it takes to build a relationship with him, even if it requires infinite time and patience and understanding.

I could do that for my son. For my family.

Ethan likes to glare at me and then leave. This time, however, he lingers like he has something he wants to say.

Hope sparks within me. Perhaps this could be a bonding experience?

“Everything okay, Ethan?” I ask.

“I heard my uncles talking,” Ethan says. He seems hesitant to continue.

“Yeah? Everything okay?” I prompt again.

“They said Mom had to promise you a favor so you’d help us,” Ethan says, his voice heavy with accusation.

My heart sinks. Cara did promise me a favor in exchange for the favor of protecting the kids, but that had been highly unnecessary.

“I would have offered to protect you and your sister regardless of what she promised,” I tell him. “You are my kids. I will always protect my family.”

I was hoping, that with the earnestness to my words, Ethan would see that I’m genuine and accept me a little more. Instead, he just continues to glare at me, his expression entirely unchanged.

“I don’t believe you,” he says.

“Why?” I ask.

“I just don’t.”

I wish I knew what I had ever done to foster Ethan’s mistrust. From the start, from our first meeting, he’s distrusted me, but I can’t recall ever giving him any cause. Even before I knew Mia and Ethan were my children, I tried to treat them with respect. But Ethan was never happy when I was around.

Perhaps he was protective of his mother?

I just don’t know, and he’s not telling. The only thing he seems to want to share with me are glares and disdain.

“Ethan, why don’t we talk about this? I’m sure we can find some common ground. I’m really not a bad guy, and I love your Mom, so –”

“No,” Ethan says. He swivels on his heel then and disappears down the hallway, leaving me at a total loss.

I have no idea why he hates me, and without knowing why, I have no idea how to fix it.

I give Cara and the kids a few days to settle in before I start requesting we all sit down to dinner together. Not only does it make things easier on the chef and the staff for us to eat all together, but it also gives us time to hopefully bond and become a family.

I’ve tried to slowly chip away at Ethan’s iciness by being friendly, honest, and open. Though perhaps the best way to do this, especially if he’s being protective of his mom, is to show that I appreciate and value all of them.

Family dinners would help give me the chance to do just that.

As the four of us sit in the dining room, the first thing I realize is that this table is just too long. It’s built to host dinner parties with a dozen guests, not to sustain close-knit small families.

This dinner goes by without much talking, as all of us are so far away from each other that we’d have to shout.

The next morning, I have that table taken away and a much smaller, round table brought in. This one, we all sit closer, close enough to talk and be heard. It looks a little ridiculous, such a small table in a massive room, but I will trade aesthetics for function any day.

I ask them individually about their days. Mia did some finger-painting today and is eager to show me the result. When she starts to get up, Cara makes her wait until after dinner to show me, but I’m already planning a spot to hang whatever it is if Mia chooses to give me a painting.

Cara helped the staff decorate some of the new flower arrangements around the house. Odd, I never really looked at the flowers before, but Cara’s involvement makes me take notice. They are beautiful, and smell great too.

Have the staff always been doing this? Replacing the flowers as needed? Perhaps I should give them all a raise.

“They are beautiful, Cara,” I tell her. She seemed pleased with herself before but my praise makes her blush, which fills me with satisfaction.

“It’s nothing,” she says, looking away.

It’s Ethan’s turn to fill the family on what he did today, so we all look at him expectantly.

Crossing his arms, he leans back in his chair and refuses to answer, even when Cara gently prods, “Ethan. Tell us about your day, honey.”

“It was fine,” he says shortly, at his mother’s prompting.

I know he had fun today. I heard him laugh along with his sister earlier today while I was working in my home office. Having the house filled with the sound of children’s laughter had stirred contented fatherly feelings within myself. I was proud to have such a happy family.

Unfortunately Ethan seems to hate me so much that he refuses to even share what made him so happy in the first place.

I’ve only just started to try to be Ethan’s father, and already I feel like the worst kind of failure.

Then, the doorbell rings. Odd.

“Are we expecting someone?” Cara asks me.

“No,” I reply.

Typically the servants answer the door, but given the reason for Cara and our children to need to be here under my protection in the first place, I don’t feel comfortable leaving the screening of visitors entirely up to the staff. Even with the additional security I hired, I still feel jumpy about all this.

“I’ll be right back. Please excuse me.”

Leaving the table, I head down into the main foyer, where one of the staff have already opened the door.

“If you just ask Cara, I’m sure she’d love to see me…”

I come closer and see the face of our visitor.

It’s Noel.