Chapter 4 - THE OTHER SON
My name is Ethan Reynolds.
For eighteen years, I believed Vincent Moretti was my father in every way that mattered.
He attended my birthdays.
Paid for my education.
Taught me to drive.
Showed up at basketball games whenever business allowed.
And made sure I never had to wonder whether I was wanted.
My mother, Sophia, told me Vincent had left his first wife because their marriage had already fallen apart.
She said Claire Bennett was cold.
Ambitious.
Uninterested in having children.
She told me Claire had always resented my existence.
I believed her.
Why wouldn't I?
She was my mother.
Then Harvard happened.
I watched a young man named Noah Bennett accept an academic award.
I noticed his face immediately.
The dark eyebrows.
The sharp jaw.
The way he held his shoulders.
He looked like Vincent.
Like me.
When Claire stepped onto the stage, my father froze.
My mother turned pale.
And I understood that the story I'd been told was missing something enormous.
The next morning, I confronted her.
We were staying in a hotel suite overlooking Boston.
She stood near the window, still wearing her silk robe.
“Mom.”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
“Did you know Noah existed?”
Her expression changed.
“What?”
“Noah Bennett.”
She looked away.
I felt cold.
“Mom.”
She sighed.
“Ethan, this is complicated.”
“Did you know?”
A pause.
Then she said, “I suspected.”
My stomach dropped.
“For how long?”
She didn't answer.
“Mom!”
Her eyes flashed.
“Don't raise your voice.”
I stared.
For the first time, the command didn't work.
“You knew I had a brother?”
She folded her arms.
“Vincent's former wife disappeared.”
“That's not an answer.”
Her face hardened.
“Ethan, you have no idea what I sacrificed to give you the life you have.”
I stepped backward.
“What does that have to do with Noah?”
She looked toward the window.
Then whispered, “Everything.”
I stared.
“Did you steal money from Claire?”
Sophia turned sharply.
“Who told you that?”
My blood ran cold.
She hadn't denied it.
I swallowed.
“Mom.”
Her voice rose.
“I protected our family.”
“From what?”
“From her coming back and taking everything!”
I stared.
Then laughed once.
A horrible sound.
“You mean Dad?”
She looked away.
I felt sick.
For years, I'd believed my mother was the person who kept our family together.
Now I was realizing she might have spent those years destroying another family to protect her place in ours.
“Did you know about the payments?” I whispered.
Sophia said nothing.
I stepped backward.
“Ethan—”
“No.”
She reached toward me.
I moved away.
“Don't.”
My voice shook.
“You taught me that family comes first.”
Her expression softened.
“Yes.”
I looked at her.
“Then why didn't Noah count?”
She began crying.
I wanted to comfort her.
For eighteen years, that had been my instinct whenever she was upset.
But now I couldn't.
Not without understanding what she'd done.
I left the suite.
Outside, I called Vincent.
He answered immediately.
“Ethan?”
“Dad.”
My voice broke.
“I think Mom knew.”
Silence.
Then Vincent whispered, “I was afraid of that.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
I believed him.
Not because he was perfect.
He wasn't.
But because I'd seen his face when Noah stepped onto that stage.
Nobody could manufacture that kind of shock.
I took a breath.
“I want to meet him.”
Vincent was quiet.
Then said, “That's his choice.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
He continued.
“Ethan, whatever happens, none of this is your fault.”
My eyes filled.
I looked toward the crowded street.
“I don't feel guilty for being born.”
A pause.
“I feel guilty because he spent eighteen years without something I had every day.”
Vincent's voice broke.
“What?”
I swallowed.
May you like
“A dad.”
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