He stepped into the kitchen.
The scene was unchanged. Ethan sat on the floor, legs stretched out, the empty wheelchair against the wall like a cruel reminder. Pots arranged in a half circle. Emily lay on her stomach, cheering him on.
“That’s it, champ! Loudest drummer ever!”
The floor creaked.
Emily turned, startled, scrambling to her feet. “Mr. Collins—I’m sorry. I finished cleaning. Ethan was crying, and I couldn’t leave him like that. I just played with him for a minute before making lunch.”
She began gathering the pots nervously. Ethan stopped and looked at Andrew, fear flickering across his face. That look hurt the most.
“Leave them,” Andrew said, sharper than he meant.
Emily froze. “Please, I need this job. I wasn’t wasting time—”
“I’m not worried about the house,” he said quietly. “I want to know why you were on the floor with my son.”
She blinked. “Because he’s on the floor. You don’t play with a child from above. You get down where they are. My grandmother taught me that.”
The simplicity of it struck him like a blow.
“You were hired to clean,” he said, clinging to control.
Ethan’s shoulders slumped. Something broke inside Andrew.
Emily straightened, her voice steady. “Ethan doesn’t just need a clean house. He needs affection. He needs to be seen as a child, not a tragedy. He cries when you leave. He wakes from nightmares. He’s afraid you’ll disappear too.”
Andrew froze. “How do you know that?”
“Because I stay with him,” she said softly. “I talk to him. I hold his hand. Someone has to.”
The truth spilled from Andrew before he could stop it. “I installed cameras. I watch when I’m not here.”
Emily recoiled. “You were spying on me?”
“Did you see me hurt him?” she asked through tears. “Or did you see me love him?”
She grabbed her bag. “Then fire me. Fire me for making your son smile.”
Panic surged. “Wait,” Andrew said, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how to be his father anymore. I see the accident every time I look at him. I’m lost.”
He cried there in the kitchen, stripped of everything but grief.
Emily set her bag down and touched his arm. “You need help. And Ethan needs you now.”
“I’m scared,” he whispered.
“Of losing him?” she asked.
He nodded.
She hugged him. “He’s here. Love him now.”
She pointed to the pots. “Sit with him.”
Andrew hesitated, then knelt. The floor was cold. He faced Ethan fully for the first time in months.
Emily placed a spoon in each of their hands.