Chapter 43: Family Portrait
“Alistair married someone else?”
Nathaniel had just arrived home from work when he heard the news. He froze. “Are you sure? That can’t be right.”
Cordelia sighed. “He told Eva himself. She said she ran into him outside the kindergarten—he was picking up a little girl. The girl even called him Daddy. And Danny mentioned today that he saw Alistair picking her up a few days ago and telling him not to call him Daddy anymore.”
Nathaniel was quiet for a while, reflecting on how cold Alistair had been the last time he’d tried to reach him. That conversation had been so final, it effectively sealed any chance of reconciling with Rebecca.
Eventually, he said, “They’re divorced. If he’s remarried, that’s his own business.”
Cordelia became anxious. “How can you say that? If he really has moved on, what about Rebecca? What about Danny?”
Nathaniel sank onto the couch with a tired sigh. “He was with Rebecca for six years, and she never really saw what was good about him. Maybe they just weren’t meant to be.”
Cordelia frowned. “That isn’t fair. Back then, she didn’t see it because she didn’t have anything to compare him to—kind of like how I used to pick at him all the time. But now, after seeing what Richard’s like, I actually think Alistair was the only one worth trusting. Can’t you try to talk some sense into him?”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Is this really on us? It’s between them. Us pushing for something Rebecca might not even want…it won’t change anything.”
Cordelia fell silent. He had a point. They’d been clinging to the hope that Alistair might come back—but had anyone really asked Rebecca what she wanted? Would she really choose that other life over her own family? Cordelia’s heart sank. As a mother, she never wanted to see her daughter caught in this mess. But because she was her mother, she felt compelled to help Rebecca see Alistair for who he really was—even if it meant being the “bad guy.” If Rebecca wouldn’t come around, Cordelia would eventually have to take a firm stand.
In the kitchen, a trusted cook recommended by Mabel was preparing dinner. Meanwhile, Alistair was in the living room with Eloise, drawing together. The soft scratch of pencil on paper filled the room with a soothing, steady sound. Eloise loved drawing. Whenever she had a spare moment, she’d grab her pencils and start sketching. Caroline used to work so much that Mabel would keep Eloise company. Now, however, it was Alistair by her side. The person had changed, but Eloise’s smile hadn’t—if anything, she seemed even happier now. Because now there was a little extra love around.
Eloise started by drawing a little girl with pigtails. “That’s me.” Then she drew an elegant lady with long, flowing hair. “That’s Mommy.” Finally, she drew a tall, handsome man. Not that Alistair was bragging, but the kid clearly had talent—each line full of life, even if a bit childish.
Eloise pointed at the handsome figure and asked, “Daddy, do you know who that is?”
Alistair pretended to think hard. “Is it me? But he looks way too handsome to be me…”
Eloise giggled. “You got it! You’re so smart!”
Alistair played along, dramatically gasping, “You made me look so good—I nearly didn’t recognize myself!”
Eloise shook her head with a smile. “No way, Daddy. You’re a thousand times—no, a million times—more handsome than that!”
Alistair’s heart swelled, as if someone had poured honey straight into it. Being a dad to a daughter was pretty incredible.
Not long before dinner, Caroline came home from work. Unless there was something major, she rarely stayed late—she always made sure to be home for her daughter. And now, with someone else waiting for her too, there was no way she’d be working overtime. She changed into comfy clothes and walked over, carrying that soft, familiar scent. “What are you two drawing?”
Eloise beamed. “Mommy, look!”
Caroline examined the picture for a moment and then smiled knowingly. “Looks like a family portrait to me.”
A family portrait? The words hit Alistair harder than he expected. Someone who had always craved a real family…yeah, that phrase landed deep.
Eloise blinked. “What’s a family portrait?”
Caroline put one arm around her daughter and casually rested the other across Alistair’s shoulder. He tensed up for a second, then quickly reminded himself—this wasn’t a big deal. Just an arm. They’d held hands before, for crying out loud. He forced himself to relax.
Caroline spoke in that soft, warm voice she reserved for Eloise, “It’s a picture of you, Mommy, and Daddy—all of us together. That’s what a family portrait means.”
Eloise’s eyes sparkled. “So…we’re really a family now, right? Like in the picture?”
Caroline gave a confident nod. “That’s right. The three of us, always.”
For a split second, Alistair got the feeling Caroline wasn’t just saying that to make the kid happy. She meant it. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into things.
He let out a quiet breath. Don’t lose your grip. Don’t let this warmth fool you. No matter how good it feels, it doesn’t belong to you. Still, he owed her something. Because, for once in my life, I wasn’t just watching from the sidelines. I was part of it—even if it might only be for now. That’s enough.
Caroline had the picture laminated and framed. She then placed it right in the center of the living room. Every time Alistair passed by, his heart grew a little warmer, as if he was truly part of this family.
That night, Eloise went through her bedtime routine. She wrapped her arms around Caroline, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Mommy.” Eloise was always such a sweet, well-behaved child. After saying goodnight to Caroline, she turned to Alistair, who was already crouching by her side, waiting, and planted a kiss on his cheek too. “Good night, Daddy.”
Alistair smiled softly. “Good night, sweetheart.”
Wrapped in the love from her parents, Eloise clutched her little brown teddy bear and drifted off to sleep, peaceful and content. As Caroline headed toward the bedroom, she called back, “Good night, honey.”
Alistair smiled. “Good night.” But she didn’t move. After a brief pause, he added, “Good night…sweetheart.” And just like that, it didn’t seem as awkward as he had feared. It was only a word, after all.
Caroline smiled, satisfied, and then walked into the bedroom. Alistair chuckled quietly to himself. The longer they spent time together, the more he realized something surprising—Caroline, for all her CEO composure, had just a tiny streak of playfulness. His eyelids grew heavy as he set his phone down on the nightstand and let sleep take him over. Just before the realm of dreams swallowed him, one last thought drifted through his mind. Eloise is asleep now. Is Caroline asleep too?