"I'm terrified," she admits quietly. "Everything is so complicated, Noah. Jack suspects the twins are his. Blake just found out he's a father. And you..." She trails off.
"And me?" I prompt, my hand finding hers.
"You're dealing with Vanessa's kids, and I feel guilty adding my mess to your plate."
I turn to face her more fully, my knee pressing against hers. "Mia, I'm falling for you. Harder than I expected. Harder than I probably should, given how complicated this situation is." I gesture toward the playground where all five kids are playing together. "But watching you with them, seeing how you care about Maya and Ethan and Sophie even though they're not yours, it makes me imagine a future I never thought I wanted."
Her eyes fill with tears. "Noah, I don't know if I can give you that future. I don't even know what my future looks like right now."
"Then we figure it out together." I squeeze her hand. "That's what we do, right? All four of us. We figure it out."
She laughs, but it sounds broken. "Four people trying to navigate one relationship. It sounds like something out of a history book. Some scandal that would have destroyed reputations."
"History is full of unconventional arrangements," I point out. "The difference is we're choosing this. We're being honest about it."
"Are we?" She pulls her hand away and wraps her arms around herself. "I haven't told Jack the truth about the twins, even though he asked me point-blank at my parents' house. I haven't found the courage or the right moment."
Mia looks at me, and something shifts in her expression. Heat flares in her eyes, and I'm suddenly very aware of how close we're sitting. How her leg is pressed against mine. How her breasts rise and fall with each breath.
I want to kiss her. Want to pull her against me right here in this public park and claim her mouth with mine. But we're surrounded by families and children, so I settle for brushing my thumb across her knuckles.
"Tell Jack," I say. "Soon. He deserves to know, and you deserve to stop carrying this secret."
"I know. I will. I just need to find the right moment."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching the kids play. Maya is showing Rory how to do a cartwheel. Corey and Ethan are building something in the sandbox. Sophie has convinced all of them to play some elaborate game that involves a lot of running and shrieking.
"They're good together," Mia observes. "All of them."
"Yeah." I watch Maya laugh at something Rory said. "They are."
Mia leans her head against my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her. She fits perfectly against my side, her body warm and soft. I can smell her shampoo, something floral and sweet that makes me want to bury my face in her hair.
"Thank you," she murmurs. "For being here. For being patient with me while I figure all of this out."
"I'm not going anywhere." I press a kiss to the top of her head. "No matter how complicated it gets."
She tilts her face up to look at me, and the vulnerability in her expression makes my heart ache. I'm about to say something else, something about how much she means to me, when movement catches my eye.
A man is walking toward us across the park. Tall, well-built, with dark hair. He's wearing designer jeans, which I think is odd attire to wear to a park. He looks like he just stepped off a modeling shoot for a men's magazine or something.
Mia stiffens against me. "Oh God."
"Marcus?" I guess. I've never met the man, or even seen a picture of him, but something told me it was him.
"Marcus," she confirms, her voice tight with tension.
I stand as he approaches, positioning myself slightly in front of Mia. It's instinctive, protective, and probably unnecessary, but I can't help it.
Marcus's brown eyes take in the scene with obvious displeasure. His gaze lingers on where Mia and I were sitting pressed together, then moves to the playground where the kids are playing.
"Mia." His voice is smooth, practiced. "What a coincidence running into you here."
"Marcus." She stands, moving to my side. "What are you doing here?"
"Just out for a walk. Enjoying the beautiful day." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"
"Noah Young," I say, extending my hand. "I teach history at Riverside Academy."
