That got his attention.
“Here?” he said.
I nodded. “Junior associate. Studying for the bar.”
Now he really looked at me. Not the quick glance from before. A longer look, like he was seeing something new.
“That’s impressive,” he said.
It sounded genuine. For the first time since he walked in, something real slipped through.
“He did that,” I said, “on his own.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “I’d like to meet him,” he said again. Softer this time. Still not asking, exactly, but closer.
I leaned back in my chair and studied him. All those years ago, I thought I knew this man. Thought I understood what mattered to him. Turns out I had only understood a part of him. The part that left.
“I’ll talk to him,” I said.
Daniel let out a small breath. “Good,” he said. “That’s good.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a business card, and set it on my desk.
“I’m staying at the Marriott downtown,” he said. “You can have him call me, or we can set something up.”
I didn’t touch the card. Didn’t need to.
He straightened his jacket again and looked around the office.
“You’ve done well for yourself,” he said.
I met his eyes. “So have you.”
Another pause. Then he nodded once.
“I’ll be in touch.”
And just like that, he turned and walked out the same way he came in, confident, controlled, like he had just handled another piece of business.
I sat there for a long moment after he left. The room felt quieter now. Even the hum of the air vent seemed louder. I looked down at the business card on my desk. Didn’t pick it up. Didn’t throw it away either. Just let it sit there.
That evening, I found Ethan in the kitchen at home, leaning against the counter, flipping through a thick bar prep book. Same spot where he used to do homework as a kid. Different book, same focus.
“You’re home early,” he said without looking up.
“Slow afternoon,” I replied.
I set my bag down. The old spiral notebook was inside, tucked between folders. I still carried it sometimes. Didn’t always use it. But I liked knowing it was there.
Ethan closed the book and looked at me. “What’s up?”
He always knew. Didn’t matter how small it was. He just knew.
I leaned against the counter across from him and took a breath.
“Your father came by today,” I said.
No buildup. No soft landing. Just the truth.
Ethan didn’t react the way most people would expect. No shock. No anger. Just stillness. He nodded once.
“Okay.”
That was it.
“He wants to meet you,” I added.
Ethan held my gaze. “Do you want me to?”
Simple. Direct. No drama.
I shook my head slowly. “This isn’t about what I want. It’s your decision.”
He studied me for a second, long enough that I knew he was really thinking about it.
“Why now?” he asked.
I gave a small shrug. “Sounds like he needs something.”
Ethan’s mouth twitched slightly. “Yeah,” he said. “That tracks.”
We stood there in the kitchen, the same room where I had stood years ago having a very different kind of conversation. This one felt steadier. Stronger.
“Does he know anything about me?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “Not really.”
Ethan nodded once. “Good,” he said quietly.
He turned back to me.
“Then I’ll meet him.”
I watched him carefully. “Are you sure?”
He gave a small, calm smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I should.”
