Chapter 8 – When Fathers Fall from the Sky
Chapter 8 – When Fathers Fall from the Sky
The rooftop was quiet, washed in silver moonlight and the distant hum of New York’s sleepless soul. Aurora stepped onto the balcony in a navy coat, wind tugging at her curls, face guarded but no longer hard. She saw Damon by the edge, leaning on the glass railing like he was trying to figure out how the world had slipped through his fingers.
“I came alone,” she said softly.
He turned, his eyes finding hers instantly—relieved, searching, uncertain.
“I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
Aurora took a step forward. “Why did you ask me here?”
Damon reached into his coat and pulled out a small object—an old, worn Friendship Ring. Silver, with a faint blue stone.
“I found this in my drawer yesterday. I’d forgotten I ever wore it.” His voice was quiet. “We were sixteen when I gave you this. You said it was childish.”
“I wore it anyway,” Aurora said.
“You kept the stone,” he said, “but not the boy.”
Aurora’s expression cracked. “Because the boy turned into a man who signed away my mother’s life.”
Damon exhaled. “And now I know I signed away more than that. I signed away us.”
They stood in silence, the air cold but not cruel.
“I didn’t invite you here to beg for your forgiveness,” Damon said after a pause. “I invited you here because I want to meet my son.”
Aurora’s heart stuttered.
“He’s... like you,” she said slowly. “Smart. Quiet. He builds things out of nothing.”
“Is he happy?”
“I try to keep him safe. That’s not always the same thing.”
Damon nodded. “Do you hate me?”
Aurora hesitated. “I tried to. For years. But it never stuck.”
He stepped closer. “You’re still the only girl I see when I close my eyes, Rory. You always were.”
She looked up at him, pain and hope warring behind her gaze. “Damon, I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”
“You don’t have to trust me as a lover,” he said. “But maybe, someday, you could trust me as a father.”
---
The following day was unusually warm for November. Aurora stood at the edge of the children’s park near her apartment, watching Caleb climb a jungle gym like a determined squirrel.
Damon stood beside her, dressed simply in jeans and a dark jacket. He looked oddly human—nothing like the billionaire mogul the city worshipped.
“He doesn’t know,” Aurora whispered.
“I don’t want to frighten him.”
“I told him a friend of mine wants to meet him.”
Damon nodded slowly. “Can I?”
Aurora nodded back, watching as Caleb jumped down and ran toward them, cheeks flushed with effort.
“Hi, Mommy!” he beamed, then looked up at Damon curiously. “Hi.”
“Hey, kid,” Damon said, crouching to his level. “Your mom tells me you like building things.”
Caleb shrugged modestly. “I’m working on a flying boat.”
“A flying boat?” Damon’s brows rose. “That’s impressive. I never got past paper airplanes.”
Caleb giggled. “That’s ‘cause you didn’t use magnets and balloons.”
“Clearly not.”
Aurora watched the exchange with a heart clenched so tight she thought it might shatter. The two of them… they mirrored each other in more than looks. There was something easy, familiar in the way Caleb tilted his head—just like Damon did when curious. Or how Damon squatted exactly the same way Caleb did when tying his shoes.
A father and son already speaking the same unspoken language.
Damon looked up at her. “May I…?”
She nodded, unable to find her voice.
He turned back to Caleb. “Wanna build something together sometime?”
Caleb grinned. “Can we build a sky fortress?”
Damon smiled. “We’ll build two. One for you, and one for me—so I can keep an eye on you from across the clouds.”
Caleb laughed. “Deal!”
---
That night, after Caleb was asleep, Aurora sat in her apartment alone, sipping wine and staring at the dimmed city.
A knock at the door made her jump.
It was Damon.
He looked exhausted, hands in his pockets, tie loosened.
“I needed to see you,” he said.
“I thought you just did.”
“No—I saw Caleb. But you?” He stepped inside. “You’re still hiding.”
“I’m protecting him. That includes protecting myself.”
Damon paused. “I understand.”
“Do you?” she asked quietly.
“I’m not asking for your heart, Rory. I don’t deserve that. Not yet.” He met her gaze. “But I’d like the chance to earn a place in your life. In his life. As whatever you’ll allow me to be.”
Aurora studied him. The man she’d once known was still there—buried under scars and suits, yes—but real. And he was trying.
“You have one chance,” she said softly. “Mess it up, and I don’t care how powerful you are—I will take Caleb and disappear.”
“You won’t have to,” he said, voice trembling. “Because now that I’ve found him… I’m not letting him go.”
---
Meanwhile, across the city, Gregory stood at his penthouse bar, pouring scotch with a shaking hand.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A modulated voice spoke on the line: “The files are with Thorne. You need to move.”
“How much do you want?”
“Money’s not what we want.”
Gregory stiffened. “Then what do you want?”
“Leverage. And we know about the offshore clinic in Zurich.”
The line went dead.
Gregory paled.
---