004-- Mom cared for me

Sophia sat on the living room couch, the dim light of the evening filtering through the curtains. The ticking of the clock echoed through the silence, amplifying the tension in the air. Daniel was seated on the far end of the couch, his small body curled up protectively. Though he tried to appear indifferent, the occasional glances he cast her way betrayed his unease.

Sophia's heart broke at the sight of him distancing himself from her, a habit formed from years of neglect and indifference. She longed to reach out, to assure him that things would be different, but she knew she couldn't rush it. Trust was fragile, and she had shattered his too many times in the past.

"Mom…" Daniel's voice broke the silence, shaky and uncertain. His wide, innocent eyes darted up to meet hers before quickly looking away. "Why did you… why did you protect me today at school?"

The question hit Sophia like a dagger to her heart. The weight of her past actions bore down on her, and she swallowed hard, struggling to find the words. "Daniel…" she began softly, but before she could continue, the sound of the front door opening interrupted her.

Ethan strode in, his presence commanding as always, his sharp suit slightly disheveled from the day's work. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, immediately landing on Daniel. He walked straight past Sophia without a glance, kneeling before their son with concern etched on his face.

"Daniel, are you okay?" Ethan asked, his voice filled with urgency. "Your teacher called and said you were in a fight today. Are you hurt?"

Daniel shook his head quickly, his gaze darting nervously to Sophia. "No, Dad. Mom… Mom protected me," he said, his voice almost incredulous as if he still couldn't believe it himself. "She yelled at the teacher and the other parents and carried me home."

Ethan's expression shifted, surprise flashing in his eyes as he turned to look at Sophia for the first time since entering. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his gaze unreadable. He stood and picked Daniel up, cradling him protectively.

"Let's go," Ethan said briskly, turning toward the door. "We'll eat out tonight. I don't want you to stay here after a day like this."

Sophia shot up from her seat, her heart pounding. "Wait," she called, her voice firm but pleading. "You don't have to go out. I had the maids prepare dinner for us. I thought… I thought we could eat together as a family."

Ethan stopped in his tracks, his back stiffening. Slowly, he turned to face her, his expression a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What's the meaning of this, Sophia?" he asked coldly. "What game are you playing?"

Sophia flinched at the harshness in his tone but held her ground. "I'm not playing any games, Ethan," she said softly. "I just… I wanted us to have dinner together. As a family."

Ethan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "A family?" he repeated. "That's rich coming from you. This morning, you couldn't even look at me, and now, suddenly, you're playing the perfect wife and mother. What do you want, Sophia? Money? Is that it?"

His words stung, but Sophia couldn't blame him. She had spent years pushing him away, dismissing his efforts to hold their family together. He had every right to doubt her sudden change.

"I don't want anything from you, Ethan," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "I know I've hurt you and Daniel in the past, but I want to make things right. Please, just… give me a chance to prove it."

Ethan stared at her for a long moment, his expression hard and unyielding. Then, without a word, he turned and began walking toward the door again.

Sophia's heart sank, but just as he reached for the handle, Daniel spoke up. "Dad, can we stay?" he asked hesitantly, his small voice barely audible.

Ethan paused, glancing down at his son. "You want to stay?" he asked, his tone softening slightly.

Daniel nodded, his gaze shifting to Sophia. "I want to see if she means it," he said simply.

Ethan sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine," he muttered, turning back toward the dining room.

Sophia's heart leaped with relief as she followed them, determined to make the evening a success.

The table was set beautifully, with warm dishes steaming under the soft glow of the chandelier. The maids had outdone themselves, preparing a spread that included all of Daniel's favorite dishes.

As they sat down, the atmosphere was tense, the silence heavy and awkward. Daniel poked at his food cautiously, glancing between his parents as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ethan ate methodically, his gaze fixed on his plate.

Sophia, however, refused to let the silence win. "Daniel," she said gently, drawing his attention. "How's your cheek? Does it still hurt?"

The boy blinked, startled by her concern. "It's okay," he mumbled, his small fingers brushing over the faint scratch.

Sophia smiled warmly. "You were very brave today," she said. "Standing up for what's right takes a lot of courage. I'm proud of you."

Daniel's eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he might cry. Instead, he ducked his head, hiding his expression.

Ethan watched the exchange silently, his fork paused mid-air. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decipher her intentions.

"I know this is sudden," Sophia said, addressing Ethan directly. "And I know I don't deserve your trust right now. But I'm going to do everything I can to earn it back."

Ethan didn't respond, but his expression softened ever so slightly.

After dinner, Daniel excused himself to go to bed, leaving Sophia and Ethan alone in the dining room. The silence between them was thick with unspoken words.

Finally, Ethan stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "I don't know what you're trying to do, Sophia," he said, his tone guarded. "But don't think for a second that I'll let you hurt Daniel again."

Sophia nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "I won't," she whispered.

Ethan didn't reply. He simply walked away, leaving Sophia alone with the weight of her guilt and determination.

As she cleared the table, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. It was small and fragile, but it was there.