He veers off at the last second and leaves another of those lingering kisses on my cheek—this one a centimeter closer to the corner of my mouth than the last.
I blink, trying to shake off the wave of longing that sends a shiver through my body.
“You need to see a doctor,” I say bluntly.
I thought a lot about how to bring it up, but couldn’t find a better way. I don’t want another scare like the one from a few weeks ago. More than that, I don’t want to risk Nero having another anxiety attack—this time in front of Kael. What wouldwe have done if Atlas hadn’t been available to keep our son next door while his father was rushed for help?
And most of all, I never want to feel that fear again.
“I’m already taking care of it,” he promises, still holding my hands against his chest. I make no move to pull them away. ““I don’t want you to worry. Compared to everything you went through, what I’ve been dealing with is nothing.”
“This isn’t a competition, Nero. We both need to be well to take care of Kael.”
He nods in agreement.
“I also have something serious to talk to you about. Two things, actually.”
“Two things?”
“I made a move you’re not going to like.”
“Very kind of you to warn me,” I reply dryly, trying to step back—but he keeps his hands over mine, preventing it. “What did you do?”
“I deposited the last four years of unpaid child support. You should check your account.”
“Nero!” I exclaim, forcing him to let go and taking a step back.
“I told you I couldn’t fix the past, Little Fae, but this is still our present. That money is his. It’s possibilities for him.”
I open my mouth to say that money is what complicated everything last time—but I close it again. Four months after his return to our lives, I know we’re past that stage. Iwantus to be past that stage.
“How much did you deposit, Nero?”
“Sixty percent of my monthly salary for each month since the first month of pregnancy. Plus benefits. All corrected, with interest.”
“The law says thirty.”
“I don’t care. He’s my son. That percentage is just a formality. Every cent I have is his—ours, Little Fae.”
He does it again—slyly—as if I wouldn’t notice that because I didn’t object to the nickname the first time, he’s testing it again. Idiot.
“You’re going to get me red-flagged for suspicious activity, aren’t you?” I ask, certain that Nero deposited nothing less than a small fortune into an account that sat dormant for five years—only used again when I realized there was no point in running anymore, because Nero had already found me.
He shrugs.
“We have two very good lawyers.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“How much money do you make, Nero?”
“Don’t worry. We have tworeallygood lawyers.”
He refuses to answer, and I’m about to protest when he continues.
“I have another thing to talk to you about. It’s a request and an invitation, at the same time.”
“A request and an invitation?”
