The Promise He Never Remembered Chapter 04

The Promise He Never Remembered Chapter 04

Ethan held my wrist, his fingers tightening little by little, like he was scared I’d disappear the second he let go.

His eyes fell on Toby’s face. The little boy was staring up at him, eyes red, lips pressed tight, his gaze full of stubbornness and hurt.

Bad people. His own son had called him a bad person.

Ethan suddenly felt like something had slammed into his chest, knocking the breath right out of him. He opened his mouth to explain, but looking into Toby’s clear, innocent eyes, every word stuck in his throat.

He’d never known this was how his child saw him.

For six years, he’d found Toby annoying, loud, always showing up at the worst times. He’d made Toby call him “Uncle,” told him to keep his distance in front of other people. He’d thought children were young, that they didn’t understand anything, that they’d forget after a couple of years.

But children remember everything.

“Toby.” Ethan let go of my wrist, crouched down, trying to make his voice warm. “Uncle heard yesterday was your birthday, right?”

Toby didn’t say a word. He just stepped back, hiding behind me.

Ethan felt a sharp twist in his chest, but still forced a smile: “I got a birthday present for you. I forgot to give it to you yesterday. Wait here, I’ll go get it.”

He stood up, walked quickly to the car parked at the curb, opened the

back door, and pulled out a cake box.

I recognized it instantly. It was the same cake I’d pushed aside on my desk that morning. The box still had the bakery’s label, the soft buttercream frosting, the crushed peanuts on top.

Ethan walked back with the cake, crouched in front of Toby, and opened the box, his voice laced with forced warmth:

“See? It’s a cake. Do you like it?”

Toby looked down at the cake. He didn’t make the surprised, happy face Ethan had expected. He just stared quietly at the crushed peanuts, his little face slowly turning pale.

Just then, Chloe stepped over in her high heels, put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, tilted her head to look at the cake, and suddenly laughed:

“Oh, this cake!”

Ethan frowned: “What about it?”

Chloe covered her mouth, her tone light and casual, like she was just mentioning something in passing:

“I bought this cake yesterday! I took one bite and didn’t like the taste, so I left it in the office break room. I didn’t expect you to bring it here, Mr. Carter! Well, it’s better than throwing it away, isn’t it? Perfectly fine for a little one to have, I should think.”

She finished with a sweet smile at Toby, a smile that oozed snobby, patronizing charity.

Ethan’s face changed instantly. He turned to look at Chloe, his eyes cold enough to freeze water. Chloe flinched, shyly pulling her hand off

his shoulder, mumbling: “Did… did I say something wrong?”

Toby stepped back again. He looked up at the cake, his voice small, but every word clear:

“This is a peanut cake.”

He looked up at me, then at Ethan, his small hands fisting tight in the hem of my shirt, biting his lip as he said:

“I can’t eat peanuts. If I eat them, I get really sick. Mommy says anyone who gives me peanuts is a bad person.”

Ethan’s pupils shrank.

Toby looked at the cake again, his voice even softer, so quiet it was almost like he was talking to himself:

“And… I don’t eat other people’s garbage.”

The hallway was so quiet you could hear the wind rustling the leaves outside.

Ethan’s hands, holding the cake box, were shaking. His face looked like someone had just slapped him as hard as they could. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat felt blocked, unable to make a single sound.

I squatted down, pulling Toby into my arms, and whispered softly: “Toby’s right. We don’t eat garbage. Let’s go.”

I stood up, grabbing the suitcase handle again. Toby stayed pressed tight to my side, his little hand holding the hem of my shirt, never looking back at that man again.

We stepped into the elevator. Just as the elevator doors were about to close, Ethan’s voice rang out from the hallway, desperate and raw:

“Clara—Toby—wait—”

He ran toward the elevator, his leather shoes slamming against the floor in quick, frantic steps. But Chloe was faster. She grabbed his arm, her voice tearful and hurt:

“Mr. Carter, what are you doing? My luggage is still here! You said you’d help me move my things into the room… you can’t just leave me like this!”

Ethan’s steps stopped. He looked back at Chloe, then at the elevator doors slowly sliding shut.

In the end, he chose Chloe.