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FORTY-ONE

RHEA

I see Spencer approaching from across the lawn, and something in his posture is different. Less urgent. Less rigid. But I can’t read it. Not exactly.

He stops in front of me and looks down, searching my face.

“When did you have Esme swabbed?”

The question catches me off guard. Not the content—I knew it was coming. I had the test done for him. So he would know. So there’d be no room for doubt.

But the way he asks—there’s something in his tone. Careful. Guarded. Like he’s trying to stay on solid ground.

“I had them do it here,” I say quietly. “On the second day. I only had one more day to legally comply.”

He nods once, then sinks onto the bench beside me. Silence settles between us, tight and bristling.

“I’m sorry about the letter,” he says eventually. “The legal team went too far. Came down too hard.”

“It was intense,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “And it scared me enough to know I’d comply no matter what.”

And that’s when the tears come. For the first time in four days, they break through again—hot and relentless.

“I’m terrified of losing her, Spencer,” I whisper. “Not just to RSV. But… to you.”

He jerks his head back, like I’ve slapped him.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m worried that you’ll come after her. That you’ll want to punish me for keeping her from you.”

He stares at me, his entire face crumpling in disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Rhea. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

“It’s not like that,” I say quickly, but I already know it doesn’t matter. I’ve messed up. Again.

“All I know is I should have told you. I didn’t. And if you decide to come at me—legally—I don’t stand a chance.”

He turns toward me fully now, jaw tight. “God, Rhea. I loved you. I fucking loved you. And you were hiding this from me the whole time we were together. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?”

I look away, ashamed.

“I had to ask myself,” he continues, voice lower now, more controlled, “what the hell you must have thought of me—not to tell me I had a daughter. Did you think I wasn’t worthy of knowing her? Of knowing you?”

I try to respond, but he cuts me off with a bitter laugh.

“Now you’re sayingyoustill don’t trustme. That you’re afraid I’ll try to take her from you.”

“And you,” I say, unable to refrain from defending myself, “you thought so little of me that you believed this was all some elaborate scheme. That I was trying to con you out of a few million dollars.”

His face darkens. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” I say, voice rising. “You let your lawyers comeafter me like I was some grifter. You sent a threat instead of a question.”

“I didn’t know what to think,” he snaps. “I had no context. No explanation. Just a kid I didn’t know existed, and a woman I thought I knew—but apparently didn’t at all.”

“I was trying to protect you,” I say, almost begging him to understand. “I thought you already had a whole life and family, and I didn’t want to shatter it.”

He goes still.