I looked at Cassian, unsure.
"What's your bedtime routine?" he asked quietly.
"Bath, pajamas, story, then sleep."
"Could I…" He hesitated. "Could I stay for the story?"
Leo's face lit up. "Yes! Read din'saur one!"
My throat tightened. "Okay. Let me get him ready."
I gave Leo a quick bath while Cassian waited in the living room. When we emerged—Leo in his rocket ship pajamas, hair damp and curling—Cassian was standing by the window, staring out at the city.
"Ready for story!" Leo announced, climbing into bed.
I grabbed the dinosaur book from the shelf and handed it to Cassian. He took it like I'd given him something precious and fragile.
Cassian sat on the edge of Leo's toddler bed—too large for it, looking absurd and heartbreaking all at once. Leo snuggled under his blanket, Rex tucked under his arm.
"T-rex make friends," Leo explained seriously. "But he scary."
Cassian opened the book and began to read, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. I stood in the doorway, watching my son listen to his father read to him for the first time.
By the end of the story, Leo's eyes were heavy. Cassian closed the book, clearly unsure what to do next.
"Goodnight, Leo," he said softly.
"Night, Mr. Cassian." Leo's eyes drifted closed. "Come back 'morrow?"
Cassian's jaw tightened. "Yes. I'll come back."
I turned on Leo's nightlight and ushered Cassian out, leaving the door cracked. In the living room, we stood in awkward silence.
"Thank you," Cassian said finally. "For letting me stay."
"He's your son. You have a right to know him."
"Do I?" His voice was bitter. "Because for two and a half years, I didn't. I had no rights. No say. Nothing."
"I know." My voice broke. "I know I was wrong. I was scared and selfish, and I made terrible choices. But Cassian—" I looked up at him. "I did the best I could. I've given him everything I have. He's happy and healthy and loved—"
"And he has no father." Cassian's eyes were hard. "You gave him everything except that."
The words hit like a slap. Because they were true.
"I can't change the past," I whispered. "But we can figure out the future. Together. For Leo."
"Can we?" He moved toward the door. "Because from where I'm standing, you've made it clear what you think of my role in his life."
"That's not fair—"
"Fair?" He turned back, and I saw the full weight of his anger. "You want to talk about fair? You got two and a half years with my son. You got his first word, his first step, every moment I'll never get back. So don't talk to me about fair, Isla."
I had no response. Nothing that would make this better.
Cassian opened the door. "The results will be in by morning. After that, we'll discuss arrangements."
"Arrangements?" The word felt ominous.
