Eventually, Ethan spoke.
“Tell me about your mom.”
Noah hesitated, fingers tightening around his spoon.
“She didn’t talk about the past much,” he said. “Just… that we only needed each other.”
“And your father?”
A small shake of the head.
“Never met him. She said he wasn’t meant to be in our lives.”
The exact words.
Ethan felt something inside him shift—slower this time, but heavier.
“You’re not alone anymore,” Oliver said suddenly, bright and unwavering.
Noah glanced at him.
For a split second, something softened.
Hope.
And Ethan wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
That night, outside the restaurant, Oliver reached for Noah’s hand again.
“We’re going home now, right?”
Ethan hesitated.
Home wasn’t just a place.
It meant answers.
Responsibility.
Truth.
But leaving Noah behind?
That wasn’t an option anymore.
“…Yeah,” Ethan said quietly. “We’re going home.”
Noah didn’t smile.
But he didn’t let go, either.
The drive was quiet.
Ethan watched Noah through the mirror.
The resemblance was undeniable now.
Not just in features—but in the silence. The restraint. The way he held himself together.
This wasn’t coincidence.
This was something else.
Something real.
Something he had ignored ten years ago.