“You’re not fine.” She sets down her fork. “You’re worried about Jace, Cal, and Silas. Which tells me there’s more going on here than just them being your brother’s friends and business associates.”
The table goes quiet. Even the kids stop talking, sensing the shift in atmosphere.
“Kids,” Maria says smoothly, standing. “Why don’t we go check on the horses? See if they’re ready for those riding lessons I promised.”
“Yes!” All four children chorus, scrambling from their chairs.
“Sienna, would you mind helping me?” Maria asks, her tone making it clear this isn’t really a question.
“Of course.” Sienna shoots me a look that saysyou’ve got thisand follows Maria and the kids toward the stables.
And then it’s just me and my mother, sitting at a table laden with food neither of us is eating, the ocean breeze carrying the scent of salt and flowers.
“Talk to me,” she says gently. “Please. I’m your mother. I know when something’s wrong.”
I take a shaky breath. “Where do I even start?”
“Start wherever feels right.”
So I do.
I tell her about the night of Charles and Sienna’s wedding. About how I’d been fighting feelings for Jace, Cal, and Silas for years—convincing myself they were just my brother’s annoying friends, that my attraction was just proximity, that I could control it.
I tell her about how those feelings shifted. Fromthey’re annoyingtothey’re annoying because I like themtothey’re annoying because I love them and that terrifies me.
I tell her about that night. About all three of them. About waking up knowing I was in love and knowing I had to run because Dominic would destroy them—would use them, manipulate them, turn their feelings for me into weapons against Charles.
“So I left,” I say, my voice thick. “I ran. Found out I was pregnant six weeks later. Found out it was twins. Found out—” I stop, the words catching in my throat.
“Found out what?” she asks softly.
“Found out they have different fathers.” I force myself to meet her eyes. “Heteropaternal superfecundation. It’s rare but it happens. Two eggs, fertilized by two different men during the same cycle. The hospital confirmed it when they were born.”
Her face cycles through shock, understanding, and then something that might be acceptance.
“Jace, Cal, and Silas,” she says slowly. “Two of them are the fathers.”
“Yes.”
“Do they know?”
“They know the boys might be theirs. They know about the heteropaternal superfecundation—that the twins have different fathers. I took DNA samples from all three of them a few days ago, right before the attack.” I pause. “My friend emailed me the results two days ago, but I haven’t opened them. I told them I wanted us to look at the results together. All four of us.”
“But they’re not here,” she says gently.
“No. They’re in the city hunting Ryan and Aria. And I’m here with the boys, where I should be, but—” I stop. “I want to know. I want to finally have answers. But I want them there when I find out.”
“Does Charles know?”
“That the boys have different biological fathers? Yes. That those fathers are his three best friends?” I shake my head. “No. He’s oblivious. Or he’s choosing to be oblivious. I’m not sure which.”
My mom is quiet for a long moment, processing. Then: “You love them. All three of them.”
It’s not a question.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I love all three of them. Equally. Completely. And I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be in love with three men, raise their children, build something that makes sense when everything about it is impossible.”
“Who says it’s impossible?”
