Chapter 216: we are fighting this
The room smelled faintly of something Ethan couldn’t quite put his hand on, probably the air felt still. Echoes of quiet conversations bounced between glass walls and cold concrete floors.
Maria-Isabel sat on the edge of her seat, arms crossed tightly over her chest, with Isabella, a fragile wall of choas. When the guard announced Ethan’s name, her heart sank—not because she was surprised he’d come again, but because part of her had foolishly hoped he wouldn’t.
He walked in slowly, his shoulders heavier than the last time she saw him. The dark blue coat he wore made his eyes look stormy, like he had carried bad weather with him. He stopped in front of her and waited. She didn’t stand. She didn’t even blink.
"I told you not to come here again," she said, her voice brittle. "I told you what I want. Just help me raise my daughter from in here. Nothing more."
Ethan didn’t respond right away. He dropped into the plastic chair opposite her and leaned forward, elbows on the metal table, hands clasped. The space between them was both suffocating and magnetic.
"You don’t mean that," he said quietly. "You’re angry. And tired. And scared."
She stood, shaking her head. "I’m not writing a statement. I don’t want legal help. I’m not getting out, Ethan. Let it go."
"Sit," he said firmly. "Please. Sit down."
There was something in his tone—gentle but edged, like velvet stretched over steel. Maria-Isabel hesitated. Then, as if her body moved on its own, she lowered herself back into the chair, not looking at him.
"I’ve made a lot of mistakes," he said, his voice husky. "But I never wanted you to pay for them. I let that kiss happen. I should’ve told Mara right away. Should’ve done something. Instead, I kept it quiet. I thought I was protecting her. I was wrong."
She stared past him, her fingers gripping the edge of the table.