Chapter 5: When Our Eyes Met Again
It was the weekend, and the shopping mall was bursting at the seams.
Crowds poured in endlessly, as though the entire city was flowing into this single place. Rushed footsteps, bursts of laughter, the mingling scent of coffee and delicate perfume—everything merged into a chaotic symphony where everyone seemed too busy living inside their own worlds.
Camila walked slowly beside David, keeping a careful distance—just enough so they wouldn’t brush against each other—as though a veil of mist hung invisibly between them. David was lost in conversation, passionately explaining his latest investment project—his voice steady, confident, brimming with ambition.
Camila nodded occasionally, more out of reflex than interest. Her gaze wasn’t on his face, but drifting instead among the glowing billboards and sea of unfamiliar people.
She wasn’t really listening.
She wasn’t really there.
Inside her, silence simmered like a vacuum pulling in every sound, every thought. It wasn’t that David’s words were incomprehensible—they were just too far away. Or maybe, her heart had never truly stayed in that space to begin with.
Until
“Mommy!”
A child’s voice rang out from somewhere in the crowd.
Startled, Camila turned around.
A small boy, about four years old, was running toward her, his face lit up like a full moon in autumn. His big gray eyes sparkled, and soft brown curls bounced with each hurried step under the mall’s artificial chill.
It was him again—Ethan.
The same eyes, the same familiar little coat, and that innocent voice. His eyes glowed with pure joy, as if he had just rediscovered the world he’d lost.
“I missed you so much!” Ethan panted, throwing himself into her arms.
Camila quickly knelt down, gently pushing him back. Her voice was firmer than she expected:
“I told you not to call me that.”
Ethan looked up at her, his storm-gray eyes faltering—as if a fragile mist inside them had suddenly broken apart. He fell silent, but his gaze said everything.
David paused beside her. “Camila…”
Her voice trembled slightly, though she tried to remain composed.
“It’s dangerous for a child to be alone in a place like this. We should wait until his parents show up before we leave.”
David nodded immediately, no hesitation in his agreement.
Camila led Ethan to a nearby bench. She sat down, maintaining a small but meaningful space between them. But already, something soft had begun to stir inside her chest—something dangerously close to tenderness.
Ethan nestled up beside her, his eyes fixed on her face as though trying to etch every curve into memory. Then he started to chatter, his little voice lighting up like a lamp in fog:
“Mommy, i saw a robot car today—it was just like in the movies! I wish I had one at home… Oh! And the other day, I had banana and chocolate ice cream. It was soooo yummy! But I had to eat it all alone. I wish you’d been there too…”
Camila pressed her lips together, hiding the quake in her eyes. Every word from him felt like a pin pricking a wound that had barely scabbed over. She shouldn’t listen. She shouldn’t feel anything. But her heart—it was already splintering, fragile as a frost-thin window pane in the wind.
Ethan went on, talking without pause—like all the stories he’d bottled up were finally free, and she was the only one he ever wanted to hear them.
And Camila…
She swallowed hard.
She had taught herself to reject. She had convinced herself that letting go was the only way to survive. But what Ethan brought—his pure trust, his soft eyes, that childlike faith—was like an ocean wave against the wall she had built. It didn’t break her yet, but cracks had begun to form.
Then, urgent footsteps broke the moment.
A tall man in a sleek suit appeared in the crowd. His expression was sharp, laced with tension—but the moment his eyes landed on the boy, something gentler flickered through the storm.
“Ethan! I told you to stay in the kids’ play area. Why did you run off like that? And why didn’t you answer when I called?”
Ethan leapt into his father’s arms, smiling from ear to ear.
“My smart watch ran out of battery. But it’s okay—I found Mommy, and she stayed with me the whole time!”
Leon froze.
His eyes shifted slowly to Camila.
She stood, her voice suddenly colder than the mall’s air conditioning:
“You let a child wander alone in a place like this? That’s your idea of responsible parenting, Leon?”
“It wasn’t on purpose,” he replied quickly. “I had an emergency meeting. I left him in the kids’ zone for just a bit. But when I came back… he was gone.”
“Just a bit? He’s not even five years old!” Her voice rose, still controlled but taut with suppressed emotion.
Leon gripped his son’s hand tightly, as if letting go would mean losing everything.
“I know I messed up. Thank you… for staying with him.”
Camila didn’t reply.
She bent down, opened her handbag, and pulled out a worn leather notebook. Slowly, she unfolded a photo tucked carefully inside. It was slightly faded, but still clear—a little boy, about three, smiling brightly beside a birthday cake, his ash-gray eyes gleaming with happiness.
She held it out to Leon.
“This was left at my bakery. I think… you dropped it the other day.”
Leon stared at the photo, his hand trembling as he took it. The air around him seemed to thicken.
“This boy… that’s Ethan, isn’t it?”
Camila looked at him, her voice barely above a whisper:
“He looks… so much like you, Leon.”
Silence fell.
Ethan still clung to Camila’s sleeve, unaware of the weight hanging in the air. But his gaze—his unshakable connection—was enough to make Camila feel like she couldn’t breathe.
Leon spoke quietly:
“Camila… we need to talk.”
She shook her head.
“There’s nothing left to say between us.”
Leon didn’t argue. He said nothing more. But his silence was heavier than any plea.
Camila turned to leave.
Just before she disappeared into the crowd, she bent down and gently smoothed Ethan’s hair.
The boy looked up, smiling.
“Mommy, will I see you again?”
Camila didn’t answer.
But as she walked away, her vision blurred.
And somewhere deep inside her—
A fog had begun to shatter.