A Love Letter from His Son to My Daughter Novel – The first time I saw Ethan Harrison Walker after eighteen years of divorce was at my daughter Nina White’s parent-teacher meeting in her senior year of high school. The homeroom teacher called out our names, asking Scott and me to stay behind in the office.
She pushed a letter across the desk toward him. “Mr. Harrison, this is a love letter your son wrote to Nina. At this critical point in senior year, early relationships are a big taboo. You should talk to him when you get home and teach him properly.” Scott stood there, frozen, staring at me, unable to respond for a long time. It wasn’t until the teacher impatiently reminded him that he snapped out of it and began apologizing repeatedly.
Once the conversation ended, he stopped me at the stairwell, seemingly wanting to say something but hesitating. “Nina… is she your daughter?” he asked. I nodded politely, not saying anything. He furrowed his brow, looking disappointed. “Didn’t you say that after our divorce, you’d never marry again?” *** Eighteen years ago, on the day we divorced, I did indeed swear that I would never marry or have children again.
And I kept that promise. Nina is my adopted daughter, not my biological child. But I felt no need to tell him that. “Mr. Harrison, my personal life has nothing to do with you anymore.” When I spoke again, my tone had a hint of impatience. Eighteen years had passed, and the youthful, carefree boy I once knew had clearly matured into a steady, composed man.
But there was a flicker of something unfamiliar in his usually charming eyes—something like regret and guilt. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant… I just… wanted to ask how you’ve been these years…” he trailed off. “I’m fine,” I interrupted him, my gaze drifting past him toward the classroom door nearby. A boy was carefully holding a girl’s hand, whispering something in her ear. I frowned and, ignoring the voices behind me, quickly walked over to them.
When Nina saw me, she hurriedly called out ‘Mom’ and lowered her head, unable to meet my gaze. The boy, however, stood confidently and gave me a polite bow. “Hello, Auntie. My name is Ethan Harrison Walker.” Ethan. A good name. Does it symbolize the love child of Scott and Susan Walker? I softly murmured the name, offering a faint smile. It reminded me of when I was pregnant.
At the time, Scott had been overjoyed. That very night, he sat at his desk, thinking for hours, eagerly planning to name the child growing in my womb, which was just two months along. He said, the boy will be named Evan Walker, and the girl will be named Sophia Harrison. At that time, I also imagined that, whether it was a boy or a girl, they would definitely look like him and share his personality.
Now, looking at his son, it’s clear that he really does resemble Scott. The boy was warm and friendly, and seemed like he wanted to chat more with me, but I had already pulled Nina close and began walking downstairs with the crowd of students leaving. No matter how intense the gaze behind me was, I didn’t look back. On the way home, Nina seemed downcast, too afraid to even look up at me.
The teacher had kept me and Ethan’s father behind for a one-on-one conversation, and Nina could guess the reason. “You and him have no future. Break up, and don’t stay in touch,” I said after thinking it over for a while, speaking as we stopped at a traffic light. Nina looked up in shock, her eyes welling with tears. “Mom, I promise, it won’t affect my studies…” “It has nothing to do with your studies,” I replied, my tone calm as the light turned green.
I gently pressed the accelerator. “At your age, love doesn’t have a future.” “How can it not have a future?” Her voice trembled, and for the first time, she raised her voice at me. “Grandma said the man you married before was your first love in high school.” “Why should you be allowed to, but I’m not?”