Alpha's Regret Too Late to Love Me novel Chapter 4

Foster’ POV

“Daddy!”

Moore came running and leapt into my arms, his voice clear and joyful like a little deer in mid-bounce—sweet and light, full of the fizzy energy of sparkling soda.

I froze for a second, caught off guard, before Suzanna gently tapped his arm. Her tone was soft, though tinged with a helpless reproach.

“I told you, didn’t I? You can’t call someone ‘Daddy’ so casually.”

She turned to me with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, he’s still little... I’ve been trying to correct him lately, but he keeps saying he forgets.”

“It’s alright.”

I crouched down and hugged Moore, gently patting his soft hair.

“If he wants to call me that, I’d be happy to be his dad.”

“Have you been a good boy today?” I asked.

“The best!” He proudly held up one finger, beaming.

“Mom said I could have a little soda!”

I smiled and looked at Suzanna. She nodded softly, a gentle warmth in her eyes.

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was a mess,” I said as I handed her the bouquet.

She blinked, her eyes flickering between the roses and me, as if surprised I’d brought them.

“These… are for me?”

I nodded, then took Moore’s hand and we headed into that familiar little Italian restaurant.

Amalia, the owner—a warm-hearted woman in her fifties—waved enthusiastically when she saw me.

“Alpha Foster! Same table as always?”

I nodded. She quickly barked a few directions in Italian to the staff, and we were promptly seated.

Moore hopped into the window seat, pressing his small hands against the glass, eyes wide with excitement.

“This place is so pretty!”

“Careful not to lean in too close,” I reminded him while placing a napkin over his lap.

“The hot dishes will be out soon—you might get burned.”

Suzanna glanced around the cozy restaurant and murmured,

“This place is lovely. Do you come here often?”

“From time to time.”

“With Summer?”

I paused.

“She liked the minestrone here.”

She didn’t press further—just smiled faintly.

Dinner arrived quickly. The steam rising from the shrimp risotto filled the air with the rich scent of tomatoes and spices. The plump shrimp glistened in a thick, savory sauce—enough to make anyone’s mouth water.

I carefully cut the shrimp into small pieces, placing them on Moore’s plate, and then added a few to Suzanna’s dish as well.

She looked at me and smiled gently.

“You’re still as thoughtful as ever.”

“Mommy, was Daddy always this nice to you too?”

Moore looked up, his innocent face full of curiosity.

“Mouths are for eating during dinner.” Suzanna gave him a slight glare, though she couldn’t help but laugh.

She wiped the tomato sauce from the corner of Moore’s mouth, then turned to me and said quietly,

“Don’t mind him. Kids say whatever comes into their heads.”

“It’s okay.”

I looked at Moore, smiling.

“Honestly, I wish we really were a family.”

“Don’t say that,” Suzanna said, her smile tinged with caution.

“If Luna Summer finds out, she’ll be upset.”

“But I really do appreciate you.”

She looked up at me, her voice as soft as water.

“The doctor said Moore’s recovery is going really well. The eye feels comfortable too… I’m just really grateful.”

“As long as you’re happy, I’d do anything.”

I paused, looking into her eyes.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you in person today.”

She looked at me, her expression shifting slightly.

“The Alpha House is ready. Starting tomorrow, you and Moore can move in.”

She clearly hadn’t expected me to bring it up. For a moment, she froze—then her smile slowly bloomed, eyes sparkling faintly with emotion.

“Really?”

“Of course.”

She lowered her head slightly, her fingers curling around the edge of her napkin. Her voice was cautious, restrained.

“Will we be… intruding on you and Summer? If it’s still not the right time, we can wait.”

I didn’t hesitate. I cut her off.

“She won’t mind. I already spoke to her.”

She looked up at me, visibly relieved, then gave a soft nod with a warm smile.

“That’s good to hear. I just… didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

A wave of tenderness swept through me. She was always like this—putting my situation first before her own feelings.

Not like Summer…

Summer was always too controlling. Too emotional. Always starting fights over the smallest things.

Out of habit, I reached for my pocket—only to realize my phone hadn’t buzzed all night.

That was odd.

Not a single message from Summer today.

Normally, if I was even a little late, she’d call and send voice messages nonstop until I got home.

“What’s wrong?” Suzanna noticed my distraction and asked softly.

“Nothing.”

I quickly pulled myself back.

…

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