Ex proposed, but my son is 3 years old

The rideshare rolled through the wrought-iron gates, tires crunching along the long gravel driveway of the Thorne estate. Taking a standard sedan was simply my way to slip into the city unnoticed. When Galen and I met during my master's program in Europe, I had no idea he was the heir to the country's most prominent old-money family. We fell in love long before I knew about his wealth. Even now, I preferred to keep a low profile.

Jenkins, the estate manager, pulled the heavy oak doors open before I reached the top step.

"Welcome home, Madam," Jenkins said, bowing slightly.

"Thank you, Jenkins. It's good to be back."

I dropped my purse on the entryway table and sank into the velvet sofa in the parlor. My phone buzzed in my hand. Galen's name flashed across the screen.

I tapped the screen. Victor's face filled the frame, his little hands squishing his cheeks.

"Mommy! Are you at the big house?" the three-year-old chirped.

"I am, sweetie. Did you eat your dinner?"

"Daddy let me have ice cream!"

"Galen." I raised an eyebrow at the camera.

Galen shifted the phone, bringing his sharp jawline into view. He adjusted his silk tie, his brow furrowed. "It was a tactical bribe to get him into his suit. I don't like you facing them alone, Irene. The Winston family is notorious for their theatrics."

"I survived them for twenty years."

"That was before you had a choice." He sighed, checking his watch. "This board meeting in Zurich will take two hours. Then I'm boarding the jet."

"You don't have to rush," I told him. "I'm just making an appearance for Grandfather's eightieth."

"I do have to rush," he countered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "They drove you out of the country. If they try to corner you tonight, I will dismantle their company by morning."

"I won't let them bully me," I promised. "Go to your meeting. I need to get ready for the banquet."

He gave a curt nod, though his eyes remained soft. "See you soon, Mrs. Thorne."

I ended the call, handed my coat to Jenkins, and went upstairs to change.

An hour later, I stood near the edge of the Winston ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the city's elite. I kept a glass of sparkling water in my hand, observing the crowd.

A hush fell over the room.

Lucy stood at the top of the grand staircase. She wore a stunning emerald-green gown. My old favorite. The one I had saved for my college graduation, before she claimed I ruined her night.

She walked down the steps, soaking in the admiration of the guests.

Five years ago, seeing her in that dress would have shattered me. Now, I merely took a sip of my water. The silk didn't even complement her skin tone.

Lucy spotted me by the ice sculpture. Her smile faltered. She whispered something to Jason, who stood beside her, before making a beeline for my corner.

Kevin and Tom trailed close behind her, a self-appointed bodyguard detail.

"Sister," Lucy said, her voice trembling. Tears pooled in her wide eyes, spilling over her lashes with practiced precision. "You came."

"I said I would."

Lucy reached out, her fingers hovering near my wrist. "I need to apologize. About the dress. Five years ago... you didn't tear it."

Silence stretched between us.

"I was just so scared," Lucy sobbed, pressing a hand to her chest. "I was new to the family. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing, of them not loving me. Please forgive me."

I shook my head. "There is nothing to forgive."

I felt no anger. Just a profound, hollow boredom.

Jason stepped forward, his face flushed. "Irene, stop making a scene."

I looked at my brother. "I haven't spoken above a whisper."

"Are you trying to get our attention?" Jason demanded, pointing a finger at me. "Is that what this is? You show up unannounced, stand in the corner, and refuse to accept her apology? Five years, and you still won't admit your own faults."

"She just confessed to lying, Jason."

"She made a mistake!" Jason snapped. "She poured her heart out to you. Apologize to Lucy for abandoning us, and we can all be a family again."

I set my glass on a passing waiter's tray. "I don't want to be your family."

Kevin stepped in front of Lucy, shielding her from me. He straightened his jacket, looking down at me with that familiar, patronizing gaze.

"Change your stubbornness, Irene," Kevin said smoothly. "Drop this act. You went to Europe, you got your degree, you proved your point. But it's time to come back to reality."

"My reality doesn't include you."

"If you can just be reasonable and show some grace," Kevin continued, ignoring my words entirely, "I am willing to marry you."

I stared at him. The sheer audacity of his offer hung in the air.

"You're willing to marry me," I repeated.

"Yes," Kevin said, his chest puffing out slightly. "I told you I'd wait. I am willing to forgive the past."

"Keep waiting." I pivoted toward the exit. "I'm done with this farce."

"Irene!" Jason barked, his footsteps heavy behind me. "Don't you dare walk out of Grandfather's party!"

The heavy mahogany doors at the ballroom entrance swung open.

The murmurs in the room died instantly. Even Jason stopped mid-stride.

Galen stood in the doorway.

He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, exuding an authority that made the room's billionaires look like middle managers. Resting comfortably on his hip was Victor, clutching a small stuffed bear.

Whispers erupted around me.

"Is that Galen Thorne?"

"The Thorne heir? What is he doing here?"

"He never attends these minor family events."

Grandfather Winston rushed forward, his cane tapping frantically against the marble floor. "Mr. Thorne! What an unexpected honor. Please, come in. Can I get you a drink?"

Galen didn't look at my grandfather. His piercing gray eyes scanned the room, locking onto me.

He bypassed the Winstons, ignored Kevin's dropped jaw, and walked right past Lucy's tear-stained face.

Galen stopped right in front of me.

"Excuse me, everyone," Galen announced, his voice carrying effortlessly across the silent ballroom. "I'm here to take my wife home."

Kevin went rigid. "Your... wife?"

Victor beamed, reaching his little arms toward me. "Mommy!"

Jason stepped forward, his face turning an alarming shade of red. "Irene... whose child is that?"

Before I could answer, Galen handed Victor to me, wrapped a protective arm around my waist, and turned his icy gaze on my brother.