I look up at him, realising this is something I haven’t fully considered either.
‘I’m sure you’ll think of something to say.’
‘I don’t think it’s that simple. Even a child born through a clinic has rights…’
‘Rights?’
I swallow. ‘When they turn eighteen, they can ask for the donor’s details. And if they ask me…’
He lifts his gaze to the dark beyond the glass, eyes raging, nostrils flaring.
‘Ax?’ I prompt softly. ‘Even if I said nothing, they could find out. DNA. Tech. Who knows what will be available to them by then. They may even lookjust like you.’
They could be a gorgeous baby boy with dark hair, rich brown eyes, a cheeky dimple in one cheek. The image melts my heart – while Ax turns to ice.
‘I take it you haven’t considered that?’ I whisper, knowing full well I hadn’t. Not fully. Not until now.
‘No.’ That’s all he says, and I curse my naivety. My carelessness, too. We’re supposed to be grown adults agreeing to something monumental: the creation of another life! And we’ve acted like lust-mad teenagers.
All about the fun.
Blind to the risk.
A chill skates down my spine. Do I even deserve a child?
‘I’d understand if you want to change your mind,’ I say, throat tight. ‘I won’t?—’
‘No.’ He bites out. ‘If they ask, you tell them.’
I lick my lips. ‘And if they come to you with questions?’
‘We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Next.’
‘Ax…’ I start, turning towards him, but he shakes his head.
‘If you’re gonna question every answer I give, we’ll be here all night. Get on with it, Stone.’
Everything about him urges me to push on, but my mind’s spiralling – a million different futures playing out, none of them helping, all of them freezing me in place.
‘Tay…’ His hand closes over mine and squeezes softly. ‘Whatever happens, any child of yours will be loved. If one day, they want to know who their father is, we’ll both be honest and support them through it. They’ll be okay.’
‘And you, Ax?’ I ask quietly, a sudden lump in my throat. ‘You’ll always be around them. Can you handle that?’
He’s silent for a beat, mouth pressing into a firm line, eyes unwaveringly steady.
Then he nods.
‘I’ll be their BFG.’ His lips curve up into that teasing half-smile, eyes flickering in the lamplight. ‘Their protector. Their mother’s best friend. What more could a kid need?’
For you to be their father.
The thought comes uninvited, pulsing hot through my chest. I crush it fast. That’s not what he wants – and it’s exactly why we’re doing this. Setting boundaries. Putting it all in writing. Making sure there’s no doubt, no future fallout.
‘Okay,’ I say softly.
He eases back, his hand slipping from mine, and I have to curl my fingers into a fist to stop from pulling him back.
‘Good.’
