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I hear toys getting tossed around and then footsteps. Theo is about to walk in if we don’t get dressed in the next ten seconds, so I find my sweater, fix my hair, and go be a mother again while my fiancé islooking at me like he’s already planning the next time the house is quiet.

Chapter forty-three

Simon

It feels dumb as hell to sit here negotiating custody for a kid who isn’t even born yet—especially when I still don’t know if it’s mine—but here we are. Me and Mark on one side of the long conference table, Veronica and her lawyer on the other.

Mark had warned me about her lawyer earlier. “One of the best in the business,” he’d said. Looking at her now, I can see why. She’s probably in her late forties, sharp-featured with dark hair pulled into a severe bun, wearing a tailored charcoal suit that probably costs more than my truck payment. Her eyes are cold and calculating, the kind that miss nothing.

“So, baby boy Wheelmen,” Mark starts, flipping open a folder.

“Crane,” Veronica corrects, her voice tight.

Mark doesn’t miss a beat. “Mr. Crane has made it clear he does not plan to sign off on this child having his last name, even if DNA proves it to be his.”

I love that clause. Mark found it last week. I don’t have to let Veronica slap my name on this kid. Only Blaire and my kids get that. I’ve been meaning to talk to her about changing Theo’s last name from Thomas-Crane to just Crane. It’ll be her last name soon enough, and I want us all to share it.

“I want my child to have their father’s name,” Veronica argues.

“I’m afraid that’s not legally your choice,” Mark says calmly, already moving on through the paperwork. “Moving on. Mr. Crane is willing to negotiate a fair custody arrangement if the child is proven to be his via paternity testing at birth. Until then, no agreements will be finalized.”

“Ms. Wheelmen wants full custody with supervised visitation in her own home,” her lawyer says, her voice crisp and precise.

“I’m fine with her having full custody,” I reply. “I want weekend visitation. Unsupervised. There’s no reason I need to be babysat with my own child.”

“I plan to breastfeed,” Veronica cuts in. “The baby needs to stay near me.”

“You can pump,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

That’s what Blaire did. At first Theo wouldn’t take a bottle, so I just drove to her parents’ place every day. It worked. Once he took a bottle, I started getting overnights. When he was weaned, we went straight to 50/50. Respectful. No games.

Veronica’s mouth twists. “You’re asking to have control over my body and I don’t—”

“Well, a judge could grant that order,” Mark interrupts smoothly. “Simon is entitled to unsupervised visitation with his child. If you’re breastfeeding and the child will take a bottle, you can pump or Simon can use formula when the child is in his care.”

“This is all useless to argue about right now anyway,” I interject. “Veronica won’t agree to a paternity test until the baby is born. I think it needs to be now.”

“There’s no need for one now,” her lawyer says. “Legally, it is within her right to wait.”

Mark leans forward, his tone shifting into something more deliberate. “Simon’s job involves deployments, Ms. Wheelmen. High-risk ones. We’re talking wills, military benefits, next-of-kin notifications. It would be in your interest—and the child’s—to have paternity established early. If something happens to him, you and the baby would have access to inheritance, survivor benefits, and legal recognition. Without it, you’d have nothing.”

Veronica scoffs, waving a hand. “I don’t give a shit about whatever money.”

Mark doesn’t blink. “Without proof that Simon is the father, you wouldn’t even be notified if he was deployed or if he passed. You wouldn’t be legally allowed any contact with him while he’s gone. No updates about the child. No information at all. You’d be completely cut off.”

I keep my face neutral, but I know the angle is landing. Mark and I planned this exact line of attack. Veronica doesn’t care about money—she cares about staying in my life, and we can play on her fear of being put in a situation where she can’t contact me at all.

Mark leans forward, voice steady. “With this being a matter of legal custody, paternity testing via amniocentesis is ideal.” He slides the paperwork across to Veronica’s lawyer. “There’s an opening for an appointment in two weeks, in Fayetteville. Results can be back in as early as three days. My client is prepared to pay for the entire thing.”

Veronica’s lawyer scans the documents in silence, her expression unreadable. Veronica stares down at the table, jaw tight.

After a moment, her lawyer clears her throat. “We need a few minutes to discuss this privately.”

Mark nods once. “Take your time.”

The two of them stand and step out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind them. The room feels quieter without them.

I exhale and glance at Mark. “What if they still push back and refuse anything until birth?”