I blink. Stare at her. Try to process what she just said.
“Who?” I ask. “Ryan? Take him. He’s yours. I’ll even buy your first blender. Maybe a Vitamix. Those things are expensive but really worth the investment if you’re making smoothies.”
“Not Ryan, you idiot!” Aria’s composure shatters completely. “Silas! I’m talking about Silas!”
The world stops.
“What?”
“Silas Vale.” Aria’s voice is raw now, all pretense gone. “The man I was with for four years. The man who was mine until you came back and took him.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t process. Can’t make sense of what she’s saying.
“You and Silas?” I manage. “When?”
“After you left.” Aria’s pacing now, agitated. “About a year or so after you ran to California. After Dominic ordered all surveillance on you to cease. After Silas was grieving the woman he loved who disappeared.”
Oh God. I’m going to be sick.
“We were together for four years,” Aria continues, and there’s pain in her voice now. Real pain. “He was the only good thing in my life with your father. The only person who saw me, who wanted me, who made me feel like I mattered.”
My mind is racing. Silas and Aria. While I was in California raising Noah and Liam. While he thought I was gone forever.
“And then you came back,” Aria says, turning to face me. Tears in her eyes now. Actual tears. “And suddenly I was nothing. Suddenly Silas wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t touch me, wouldn’t acknowledge I existed. You remember the day you arrived? When you grabbed my hair and threw me out of your house?”
I remember. The guest house. Finding Aria there when I thought it would be empty. My visceral reaction, my need to protect the space for my children.
“Silas was there,” Aria continues. “When you let go of my hair, when you told me to leave, I looked at him. Looked at the man I’d spent four years with. And he shoved me away. Pushed me aside, let me fall to the ground like I was nothing. Like I meant nothing. Like those four years didn’t matter because you were back.”
Understanding crashes through me. This isn’t about the organization. This isn’t about Charles or power or respect.
“So this is about jealousy,” I say, my voice flat. “You’re in love with Silas.”
“I love Silas,” Aria says fiercely. “I’ve loved him for years. I accepted him, all of him, the violence and the darkness and the parts everyone else is terrified of. And he chose you. Completely. Without hesitation.”
“He’s not a possession,” I say. “He’s a person who makes his own choices.”
“He’s a man who can’t even give you children!” Aria’s voice cracks. “Did you know that? Did he tell you he had a vasectomywhen he was eighteen? That his parents forced it because they decided he was too damaged, too violent, too much like his father to be allowed to reproduce?”
The words hit like a sledgehammer.
No.
No, that can’t be real.
“You’re lying,” I say, but my voice sounds hollow.
“I’m not.” Aria’s smile is cruel now, vicious. “Silas Vale is sterile. Has been since he was eighteen years old. His parents took him to a clinic and made sure he could never have children. It’s in his medical records. Records I accessed because unlike everyone else, I actually paid attention.”
The DNA results. The email sitting unopened. If Silas can’t have children, then the results will only show Jace and Cal.
“Those precious boys of yours?” Aria continues, watching my face. “They’re not his. They’re Jace’s and Cal’s. And Silas knows it. He’s known it all along.”
My mind is spinning. Silas knew. This whole time, he’s known he couldn’t biologically be their father. And he loved them anyway. Claimed them anyway. Called them his sons knowing the DNA would never confirm it.
“He would have told me,” I say, but even as I say it I’m not sure.
Would he? Would Silas tell me something like this?
