Mom, Don't Cry! Here comes a new Daddy! novel Chapter 128

< Chapter 115-1

Chapter 115-1

(Ethan’s POV)

She pulls down drawing after drawing, stacking them on the counter.

“Those are Jake’s,” I say. “He put them there.”

“I’m sure he did. Children love to display their work. But adults need to maintain standards.”

She carries the stack toward the trash can.

“Don’t throw them away.”

“I’m not throwing them away. I’m relocating them.”

But I see the top drawing slide off the stack and fall into the trash as she passes. She doesn’t

notice. Or doesn’t care.

I retrieve it before she can stop me.

“These stay,” I say quietly. “Jake is part of this family. His art belongs wherever he wants to put it.”

Gran studies me for a long moment. “We’ll discuss this later. When you’re thinking more

clearly.”

She walks away, and I’m left standing in my own kitchen, holding a drawing of a T-Rex family, wondering what the hell just happened.

Rosalie appears at my shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. She’s just trying to help.”

“Help with what?”

“Making sure everything is… appropriate. For your new role.”

“My new role?”

“As head of the Hale family. Eventually.” She pours herself coffee. “Grandmother won’t be around forever. When she steps back fully, you’ll be representing the entire legacy. She wants to make sure you’re ready.”

“By throwing away a six-year-old’s artwork?”

“By establishing boundaries. Structure. The things you’ll need when you’re running everything.”

Chapter 115-1

“Your home is about to become his home too. Grandmother is just making sure he understands what that means.”

“It means he belongs here. That’s what it means.”

Rosalie looks at me with something close to pity. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

+25 Points

“The weight of what you’re taking on. A wife with complicated history. A child from another man. The scrutiny. The judgment that will come with it. Grandmother is trying to protect you from making this harder on yourself than it needs to be.”

“I don’t need protection.”

“Everyone needs protection, big brother. Even you.”

She leaves me alone in the kitchen.

I put Jake’s drawings back on the refrigerator. All of them. Including the one that fell in the

trash.

Then I text Sabrina: We need to talk.

She arrives an hour later without Jake. He’s at Sophia’s, she says. They need to discuss something.

The second she walks in, I can see she knows something’s wrong.

“What happened?”

I tell her about Gran staying. About the artwork. About the drawings.

Her face goes very still. “She threw away Jake’s art?”

“She said she was relocating it. But one of them ended up in the trash.”

“Where is it now?”

“Where is it now?”

“Back on the fridge.”

“And the others?”

“All back. I put them all back.”

She walks to the kitchen. Looks at the refrigerator. Counts the drawings like she’s taking

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Chapter 115-1

inventory.

“There were thirteen,” she says. “I see twelve.”

“The dinosaur family is on the counter. I was holding it when you got here.”

She picks it up. Traces the lines with one finger. “He worked on this one for hours. It’s his

favorite.”

“I know.”

“She threw it away.”

“Not intentionally-”

“Does the intention matter?” She turns to face me. “She saw his art and her first instinct was to remove it. To make the kitchen look presentable. Like having evidence of a child’s presence in a house is something to be ashamed of.”

“That’s not what she meant-”

“Isn’t it?” Her voice is rising now. “She’s rearranging your apartment. Removing anything that doesn’t fit her vision of what a Hale home should look like. And apparently Jake’s art doesn’t

fit.”

“She’s just… old-fashioned. She has particular ideas about aesthetics-”

“Old-fashioned is preferring china to plastic plates. This is rejection. She’s rejecting my son before she even knows him.”

“She complimented his art at dinner.”

“She said it was ‘quite good.’ That’s not a compliment. That’s what you say when you have to say something nice but don’t actually mean it.” Sabrina sets the drawing down. “And now she’s staying here? In your penthouse?”

“She owns the building-”

“I don’t care who owns the damn building! This is your home, Ethan. Our home. The place. where Jake is supposed to feel comfortable. How is he supposed to feel comfortable when his art is being thrown away?”

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