Chapter 4

I didn't terminate the pregnancy.

Instead, I reached out to Mr. Davis, an elderly landscape painter from the flea market who had always looked out for me like a daughter.

Hearing my story, he sighed deeply, pressed an envelope of cash into my hands, and gave me a one-way bus ticket down south.

"Go to Willowbrook," he said gently. "It’s a quiet coastal town, beautiful and slow. Nobody knows you there."

"A true artist can make a living anywhere."

Tears streamed down my face as I bowed deeply to thank him. Taking the few belongings I had left, I boarded the bus and left behind the city where I had loved and bled.

Willowbrook was stunning. Time seemed to move at its own gentle pace there.

I rented a modest cottage with a sunlit yard. There, I nursed my pregnancy while pouring my entire soul into the art of clay sculpting.

All my grief, betrayal, and longing were kneaded into that pliable, colorful earth.

My craftsmanship reached heights I had never imagined before.

When my son, Leo, arrived, he was a tiny, wrinkled thing.

But the moment he opened his eyes and looked up at me, my breath hitched—his dark, almond-shaped eyes were the spitting image of Julian's.

In that instant, every ounce of lingering bitterness vanished from my heart.

He was my greatest vulnerability, but he was also my greatest strength.

To build a better future for him, I began blending traditional folk sculpting techniques with modern pop culture and fantasy aesthetics.

I launched social media accounts under the handle *Summer & Leo*.

I filmed the hypnotic process of shaping raw clay into intricate, breathtaking figurines and posted the timelapses on TikTok and YouTube.

It went viral.

People fell in love with my work.

Galleries began calling me a "master artisan of contemporary miniatures."

Lifestyle blogs labeled me a "rising craft icon."

Five years passed in the blink of an eye.

I built my own independent studio, launched my personal brand, and amassed hundreds of thousands of dedicated followers.

I was no longer the frightened girl gazing up at the stars from a damp sidewalk stall.

I was Summer—a woman capable of moving mountains for her son.

The ghosts of my past were locked away in a vault of forgotten memories.

My world was peaceful, happy, and filled entirely with Leo and the vibrant clay beneath my fingers.

Until an invitation arrived from a prestigious television network.

*The Artisan Showcase*.

They invited me to appear as a guest master craftsman for a live broadcast, demonstrating clay sculpting techniques to a national audience.

I brought five-year-old Leo with me to the studio.

Dressed in a tailored linen suit I had sewn for him, holding a tiny clay dragon, he sat obediently in the very front row of the VIP section.

I stood on the polished stage under the warm studio lights, perfectly composed.

The host stepped forward, his voice booming with excitement: "And now, please join me in giving a massive round of applause for tonight's special celebrity guests!"

"Oscar-nominated superstar Julian Vance! And the incredible Nicole Parker!"

To deafening cheers, the golden couple walked out side-by-side.

Julian looked impeccably handsome in a bespoke tuxedo.

Nicole glided beside him in a sweeping couture gown, the epitome of Hollywood royalty.

They looked utterly flawless together.

My heart remained completely still.

I even found myself casually noting that the lines around his eyes were slightly deeper than they had been five years ago.

Julian scanned the studio audience with practiced charm—until his eyes landed on me.

He froze.

His pupils contracted violently.

The unflappable, charismatic mask he wore slipped for the very first time, cracking wide open.

Yet, he recovered quickly. His gaze slid off me toward the rest of the crowd, as though I were nothing more than a passing shadow.

Throughout the taping, he played the doting partner to perfection for Nicole.

He brushed away an errant strand of hair from her cheek.

He looked down at her with a tender, adoring gaze that had the studio audience swooning.

It was identical to the look I had seen on television five years ago.

Only this time, there wasn't a single flicker of pain in my chest.

During the interactive segment, the host invited the celebrity guests to try their hand at clay modeling.

Nicole stepped up to my worktable, delicately picking up a miniature fox I had just finished. She laughed lightly.

"What a quaint little craft."

She turned toward the cameras, letting out a casual, patronizing sigh.

"You know, years ago, I think I saw cheap trinkets just like this at street flea markets."

"A bit rough around the edges, of course. Lacking refinement."

Her words were thinly veiled daggers, sneering at my origins and mocking my craft as pedestrian.

I didn't take the bait. I simply maintained a polite, professional smile.

Julian stepped in with a smooth chuckle, taking the figurine gently from her fingers.

"If you like it, Nicole, I'll keep it for you."

His voice was smooth as silk.

Yet, his eyes betrayed him. Uncontrollably, his gaze darted down toward the front row, locking onto the small, quiet boy watching from the audience.

Leo felt the weight of his stare and looked up.

Two pairs of identical, bright dark eyes collided across the studio air.

When the cameras finally stopped rolling, I took Leo's hand and headed toward the backstage exit.

Just as we turned into a deserted corridor, a tall silhouette stepped out, blocking our path.

It was Julian.

He was alone. The warmth of the studio lighting still clung to his tailored suit, but his eyes were a storm of shock and suppressed panic.

He stared at me, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Summer?"

"I had no idea you'd managed to climb this far."

Slowly, his gaze dragged downward, locking onto Leo, who was standing beside my hip.

Intimidated by the intense stare, Leo took a step back, hiding behind my legs.

Julian's breathing turned ragged.

He took a desperate step forward, his voice cracking.

"Whose... whose child is this?"