Page 127

I really was an ass. I should buy her some flowers. Or a boat.

“I’m not being disrespectful,” I grit out. “I’m setting boundaries. You’re making this harder than it needs to be. We don’t need to be friends, and you will NOT keep me from a child that’s mine.”

She throws her hands up. “Oh, but you had no issue being friends with Blaire when you two were just co-parenting!”

My temper snaps hard enough to sting. “Because BLAIRE WASN’T A MANIPULATIVE BITCH!”

Veronica rears back like I physically hit her.

I grit my teeth so hard I hear them cracking, clutching my hands in fists behind my back as I drag my temper back in its cage.

“You need to leave,” I say, keeping my eyes closed so I don’t have to look at her. “Don’t make this even harder.”

“Or what?” she snaps, stepping closer like she thinks she can intimidate me.

“Or I’ll wash my hands of this entirely,” I bite out, eyes flying open to meet her gaze. “I will sign away my parental rights and be done with you and this child.”

Her eyes go wide—shock, outrage, fear all tangled together.

“You do not get to show up at my house, pound on my door, demand my time, and dangle this pregnancy over my head like you own me.”

She opens her mouth but I cut her off, stepping forward just enough to make her retreat a half step.

“You will not control me,” I say, voice steady now—calm in that lethal way I learned in the military. “You will not weaponize this baby. And you will not disrupt my family.”

Veronica freezes.

“I—I…” she stammers, thrown off by someone not immediately giving into what she wants for the first real time in her life. Then her expression shifts—anger overtaking fear. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

I shrug, utterly unbothered. “Okay.”

She glares at me like I’ve betrayed her in the deepest way possible, then stomps to her car, her boots crunching loud across the driveway, slams the door so hard the window rattles, and peels away without looking back.

I stand there for a long moment, breathing hard, the adrenaline still buzzing under my skin. My hands are shaking. I flex my fingers once, twice, then turn toward the house.

Stepping inside feels like the house itself is holding its breath. I find Blaire in Theo’s room, sitting on the floor with her back against his bed, knees drawn up and her head resting on them. The curtains are pulled tight against the midday light, leaving the room in a soft gray dimness broken only by the nightlight throwing stars on the wall. On the nightstand sits the half-empty bottle of children’s Tylenol. The humidifier on the dresser lets out a steady, rhythmic hiss, sending slow curls of cool mist into the air that smell faintly of menthol. Theo’s small form is tucked under a blanket in his bed, one arm flung out, chest rising and falling with the stuffy snores.

She looks up the second I step through the doorway, relief and worry warring on her face.

“She’s gone,” I say quietly, leaning against the doorframe. “For now.”

Blaire nods, but keeps herself curled tight, arms locked around her knees like she’s still bracing for the next blow. “Are you okay?”

I cross the room and crouch in front of her, gently prying her arms loose. “I’m fine. I’m just worried about my girl.”

I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead, then tilt her head up for a soft kiss on the lips—barely more than a peck, but enough to feel the tension ease out of her shoulders. Theo stirs, letting out a soft cough that rattles in the quiet, and Blaire’s eyes flick to him before coming back to me. I reach up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Let’s go talk,” I murmur, helping her to her feet. She follows without argument, glancing once more at Theo’s sleeping form before we slip out into the hallway.

Chapter thirty-six

Blaire

Iglance at Theo once more, then follow him into the hall. We leave the door cracked and head to the kitchen. Simon fills a glass of water, drinks half of it standing at the sink, then leans against the island across from me.

“She doesn’t know you live here. I want to keep it that way as long as we can.” He doesn’t look at me when he says it.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.