“Just fine?”
“They’re good kids. Smart. Curious. They ask a lot of questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Why I wasn’t there before. Where I live. If they have other family.”
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth. Simplified version.”
Declan pulls away from the estate. “You’re different with them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Softer. Patient. I’ve never seen you like that.”
“They’re children. You have to be patient with children.”
“It’s more than that. You actually like it. Being a father.”
I don’t answer.
He’s not wrong. I do like it. More than I expected. The way they look at me like I have all the answers. The way Finn laughs at things I say without thinking. The way Liam leans against me while we’re building like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I want more of it. More than two hours twice a week in a supervised room with their mother watching my every move. I want mornings and bedtimes. Want to take them to school, help with homework, and teach them things my father taught me.
I want my family.
“What are you thinking?” Declan asks.
“That I’m tired of playing by their rules.”
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t.”
But the frustration is building. And eventually, it’s going to boil over.
28
AURELIA
Saturday arrives,and my body knows before the clock does.
I’m in the kitchen making lunch for the twins when my pulse kicks up for no reason. Heart beating faster, skin too warm. The doorbell hasn’t rung yet, but I know he’s coming. Three p.m. like clockwork.
The twins are in the playroom arguing about whether robots or dinosaurs would win in a fight. Finn insists robots have lasers. Liam counters that dinosaurs are bigger and stronger. Their voices carry down the hall, high and animated.
I’m chopping vegetables and trying not to think about Wednesday’s visit. About how Cassian sat on the floor with them, building that robot kit, patient and focused. About the moment his arm brushed mine and how that brief contact made my breath catch.
About how I couldn’t stop watching him.
The knife slips and nearly takes off my fingertip.
I set it down and grip the counter edge. This needs to stop. He’s here for the boys. The arrangement is working. I can’t mess it up by letting attraction cloud everything.
But when the doorbell rings at exactly three, my stomach flips anyway.
