Chapter 5 - The Child in the Tower
While the war for Mercer Urban Systems raged in the courtrooms and boardrooms, five-year-old Chloe was living in a world she had never dreamed existed.
Ethan had moved her into his private penthouse suite on the top floor of the Mercer Tower—a ten-thousand-square-foot sanctuary of glass, white marble, and warm oak floors overlooking Lake Michigan.
For five years, Chloe had lived in small, damp rental rooms, motel rooms, and once, for three weeks, in the back of a broken-down station wagon.
Now, she sat on a massive plush sofa, wearing a soft pink silk pajama set that Ethan’s personal assistant had rushed from a high-end children's boutique. In her hands, she held a stuffed velvet bear four times her size.
"Is this all yours?" Chloe asked, her big blue-gray eyes scanning the soaring ceilings and the giant paintings on the walls as Ethan walked into the living room.
Ethan stepped softly across the rug, setting down a tray containing two mugs of hot chocolate with mountains of whipped cream. He sat down beside her on the sofa, feeling awkwardly large and out of place in his own home.
"It used to be just mine," Ethan said gently. "Now... it's yours, if you want it."
Chloe looked at the hot chocolate, then looked at Ethan. "Where will Mom stay when her heart gets fixed?"
"She will stay in the big bedroom down the hall," Ethan promised, leaning close to her. "The one with the big balcony that looks at the water. I’ve already hired three nurses to stay here with her when she leaves the hospital."
Chloe lowered her head, her small fingers plucking at the thread of her stuffed bear. "Mom told me once... that fathers are like giant trees. They stay in one place, and they hold up the roof so the rain doesn't fall on you."
Ethan felt a sharp, painful lump form in his throat. He looked down at his daughter, his eyes stinging with tears.
"I wasn't there to hold up the roof, Chloe," Ethan choked out softly. "I didn't know you were out in the rain. I am so, so sorry."
Chloe set her stuffed bear aside. She crawled across the soft cushions of the sofa, reached out her small arms, and wrapped them tightly around Ethan’s neck. She leaned her small face against his broad collarbone, smelling of baby powder and sweet strawberries.
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"You're holding up the roof now, Dad," Chloe whispered into his ear.
Ethan closed his eyes, throwing his arms around his daughter, burying his face in her dark gold hair, and letting out a quiet, breathless sob that he had held inside for fifteen long, lonely years.
