Zhan wasn't sure how he found his way into the taxi. His hands trembled uncontrollably, and his mind raced, still reeling from everything that had just transpired. How had he ever thought he could handle all the challenges that life had thrown his way? He had convinced himself that the past three years had transformed him. That he was no longer the same boy who had been betrayed and abandoned by Yibo. He thought he had grown wiser, stronger, more composed. That he was now a man who could move on without being shaken.
How naïve he'd been.
With other men, he had been able to create a distance. His college friends had dubbed him "Ice Frost" because of his cold, impenetrable exterior. His colleagues at the office had tried to break down the walls he'd built around himself, but none had succeeded.
But not Yibo.
Zhan was no match for him.
He should have known, he should have recognized that truth when he saw Yibo at his brother's wedding. That encounter had stirred something in him, something he had thought he had buried long ago. Yibo had always been able to slip past all of his defenses. And now, here he was, unable to shake the emotional chaos that Yibo's presence still caused him.
He didn't go to the office. He knew it was pointless. Today was a day for retreat. He called Mrs. Wang Yifei to inform her that they had secured the project, though the words barely registered in his mind.
He went directly home to his condo.
"Come here, love," he called softly, his voice thick with emotion, as he reached for his son. Yuan climbed into his arms, and Zhan pulled him close, hugging him tightly.
"Can't breathe..." Yuan complained, squirming a little.
Zhan chuckled softly, his heart lighter as he held his son. "Sorry, love. You'll spend the day with me, A-Yuan. What do you want to do today?"
"Play ba'ketball!" Yuan's face lit up as he excitedly grabbed his toy basketball hoop, a plastic toy that allowed the small ball to bounce up into the hoop when pressed. It was a game meant for two players, and his enthusiasm was infectious.
Zhan laughed. "Is this what we're going to do?" He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise as he looked at his son.
Yuan nodded enthusiastically, his little face full of excitement.
"Tomorrow, I'll buy you a real basketball," Zhan promised. He smiled, momentarily lost in his son's innocence.
Yuan's eyes sparkled. "Buy ball?" he repeated, eyes wide with wonder.
"Promise." Zhan nodded, his smile growing. "And don't you know that your dada is very tall? He's as handsome as you, A-Yuan. A star basketball player at school before." He continued absently, his words floating out as if the past never truly existed.
"Dada?" Yuan echoed, looking up at him with curiosity.
"Yes, your dad—" Zhan's voice faltered, and he stopped mid-sentence.
His smile faded, and he stared at his son, suddenly struck by the reality of the situation. Since Yuan's birth, he had never mentioned Yibo. He had never felt the need to bring him up, thinking they were enough—just the two of them.
But now, as his son asked about his father, Zhan found himself completely unprepared. His chest tightened, and the weight of the truth hit him hard. He had no answer, no explanation, not yet.
"Where's my Dada?" Yuan asked, his innocent voice tugging at Zhan's heart.
Zhan leaned back against the couch, defeated. He had never planned for this. He had built a world for them both, one where Yibo was nothing more than a distant memory, irrelevant to their present. But now, that world was shattered. His son's simple question had cracked open a well of uncertainty. What was he supposed to say? How could he explain?
He stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "The... w-well..."
Tears blurred his vision. He felt a lump in his throat, and despite himself, tears began to fall.
All his fears came rushing back—fears about the future, fears about what would happen when Yuan grew older and asked more questions. What would he tell him then? How would he explain why they shared the same surname? How would he navigate the inevitable moment when Yuan would ask about the father he had never known?
His thoughts spiraled, questions racing faster than he could answer. How would he deal with the day when his son asked why his other father was absent, or why he never came home? How would he explain the complexities of love, of loss, of betrayal? How could he protect Yuan from that?
And in the midst of his swirling emotions, Zhan found no answer. Only a gnawing sense of helplessness, as the weight of it all settled heavily in his chest.
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