Chapter 5
The fourth paper was titled "A Chip-Level Security Authentication Framework Based on Quantum Communication."
Quantum communication and chips.
Calanthia's research meet my business. This wasn't a coincidence.
"You've been following my path this whole time," Calanthia said quietly.
"Dr. Thornwood, I was just making the strategic moves any business would," I answered.
"Who do you think you're fooling?" she shot back, her voice suddenly rising.
Harley stood up, sensing the tension. "I'll leave you two to talk. I'm going to grab some coffee next door."
The conference room door closed behind him.
Calanthia stood in front of me, her eyes were getting red. "You said you wanted a divorce, but you kept following my research.
"You said you weren't waiting for me, but you kept publishing under 'Aldrive.' What were you thinking when you chose that name?"
"I was thinking about making money," I replied.
"Aldric," Calanthia shouted, grabbing my collar.
We locked eyes, barely a breath apart. Her tears fell onto the back of my hand.
She asked, "Do you still love me?"
I slowly peeled her fingers off my collar, one at a time. "Dr. Thornwood, maybe you should ask yourself first. When you went abroad, did you love me then?"
She let go. "I..."
I continued, "The first week you were gone, Eamon cried every day. The first month, he got pneumonia and ended up in the hospital. I spent four nights in the hospital hallway.
"The first year, he learned to walk, fell more than a hundred times, and the scars on his knees haven't faded.
"You didn't know any of this. Because you were too busy collaborating with Darian on research, publishing papers, and winning awards."
I kept my voice steady.
"I was doing it for our future," Calanthia shot back.
"Darian was the one who signed for the divorce papers I sent," I said coldly.
Hearing this, she swayed on her feet.
I took a step back. "Three years. You never came home, never even said Eamon's name. And today, you ask me if I still love you?
"Dr. Thornwood, you're not worthy of asking me about love."
With that, I turned and walked away.
*****
That night, I was giving Eamon a bath at home.
The little guy was splashing around in the tub with his yellow rubber duck, giggling nonstop.
The doorbell rang. I wiped my hands and opened the door.
Calanthia was standing at the door. She'd changed into a white sweater, her eyes puffy and her nose red.
"How did you get my address?" I asked.
"Ms. Anderson gave it to me," she replied.
I definitely went to have a word with Bennett about this.
"Aldric, let me see Eamon," she said.
Eamon's voice came from the bathroom. "Dad, the water's getting cold!"
I stood blocking the doorway. "He's in the bath."
"I can help with his bath," Calanthia offered.
"No, that's alright," I said.
"I'm his mom," she insisted.
"Then why didn't you give him a bath three years ago?" I shot back.
She bit her lip.
"Dad!" Eamon came running out barefoot, wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping wet.
He blinked at Calanthia standing in the doorway. "That lady again?"
Calanthia crouched down, her voice trembling. "Eamon, I'm not Ms. Thornwood, I'm your mom..."
Eamon tilted his head, looking thoughtful. Then he turned to me. "Dad, she says she's my mom.
"But my teacher says a mom is someone who cooks for you and takes you to school every day. Is she really my mom?"
I didn't answer.
Tears rolled down Calanthia's cheeks. "Eamon..." she called softly.
"Dad, the water's getting cold. I want to finish my bath," Eamon said, turning and running back to the bathroom.
Calanthia fell to her knees, covering her face as she broke down in tears.
I stood at the door, watching her for a long time. "Calanthia, just go."
"Aldric, please, let me stay with him for a while..." she pleaded.
I said, "When you were overseas, I pleaded with you to come home and see our child. You told me your project was at a critical stage and you couldn't leave."
Calanthia looked up.
I continued, "While you and Darian were working in the lab until three in the morning, Eamon was right here in this room, burning up with a 104-degree fever."
"I didn't know he was sick. You never told me," Calanthia cried.
"I sent you seventeen messages. You read every one, but never replied," I said coldly.
Her face drained of color. I knew she remembered.
That night, she posted a photo on her feed. Three in the morning, her and Darian in the lab, standing in front of a machine, captioned: [Breakthrough!]
That same night, I carried Eamon, burning with fever and convulsing, into the emergency room.
"Just go," I said.
"Aldric—" Calanthia began.
"There's a technical review tomorrow," I said, cutting her off.
I closed the door. Silence hung outside for a long time.
About ten minutes later, footsteps echoed in the hallway. The footsteps grew more and more distant.