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I told myself he was only angry because I’d disobeyed him. He’d warned me to stay away from Samantha, and I had gone to their house anyway. Once he calmed down, he would understand. He would hire an attorney and bring me home.

He still cared about me. I knew he did.

He cared about our son too. He supported Luke’s head, adjusted his blanket, and refused to hand him to anyone else. That had to mean something.

Then I saw where Richard’s attention remained. He watched Samantha cry while she held Seth against her chest. He was already trying to move closer without pissing her off again.

I understood it then. Richard might have cared about me in whatever way he was capable of, but he’d never planned to leave her.

The cruiser door slammed shut.

I kept telling myself he would come for me. Luke connected us, and Richard would never abandon his own child. But as the car pulled away, he never looked in my direction.

He might’ve wanted me, but he’d never chosen me.

Richard was never mine.

Chapter 34

Richard

Inow had two sons under my roof.

One born into the clean, respectable life I had engineered, the other made out of secrecy and decisions I’d never intended to let spill over.

Seth, one year old and already charging through the world like he owned it, toddled after a soft ball with those chubby legs pumping determinedly. In the portable bassinet on a stand beside me, Luke slept soundly. He was a tiny thing, barely three months old, his face still soft and new in that unfinished way infants have before the world hardens them.

After the attack, Maggie had accepted a plea deal and been sentenced to twenty years for attempted murder and child endangerment. I hadn’t visited her since sentencing. I considered it once, then realized there wasn’t a reason. She had served her purpose.

Samantha moved around me like a ghost in her own house. She hadn’t stopped since Luke arrived. For the past two months she’d been like this. Feeding, changing, soothing, all while trying to shield Seth from the cracks widening beneath us. She wasn’t cruel. That was the damnable part. Her decency still served me, even as everything else between us had frozen solid.

I turned, forcing a casual tone. “Smells good in here.”

She didn’t glance up from the stove. “It’ll be ready soon.”

I set the mug down and stepped in close, sliding my arms around her waist from behind, pressing my body against hers the way that used to make her lean back into me. My lips brushed her neck. “Samantha… it’s been too long. Luke’s asleep, and Seth is occupied. Come on, let’s…”

She stiffened instantly, pulling away with a gentle twist of her shoulders, stepping aside to grab a towel. “Not tonight, Richard. Please. I’m exhausted. It’s been two months since Luke came here. Two months of taking care of both of them, Richard, and I… I just can’t.”

Her voice cracked on the last word. I saw the shine of tears she was fighting back, the way her jaw tightened to hold them in. She blinked hard, turning back to the stove like it was the only thing keeping her from breaking.

Internally, I seethed.

Why couldn’t she just get over it?

Two months. Two goddamn months of adjustment, and she was acting like the world had ended. She used to worship the ground I walked on. Now she looked at me like I was something contaminated.

“Samantha,” I said, keeping my voice low and reasonable, “I know this has been hell. I should’ve told you about Maggie sooner. About Luke. I thought I was protecting you and Seth, keeping that mess away from our life. Maggie’s always been unstable. You know that. It happened. I dealt with it. Now we’re dealing with the consequences of her actions.”

She kept stirring, but her shoulders were rigid.

“Her actions?” she echoed. A tear slipped free despite her efforts. She swiped it away quickly with the back of her hand. “And now we have a three-month-old in the house because of it. Seth is only one, Richard. He’s still a baby himself. I’m doing this alone. My father’s gone. My best friend is off traveling the world, living her dreams, sending postcards from places I’ll never see. And I’m stuck here. With your lying, cheating ass and your…”

She stopped abruptly, pressing her lips together, the unfinished sentence hanging between us. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t say the rest. Didn’t call Luke what he was, my bastard, or whatever harsher word had been on her tongue. She just stood there, fighting for control, the exhaustion carved deep into the lines around her eyes.

I reached for her hand, squeezing it with what I hoped looked like concern. There was nothing to apologize for. Regret implied I would’ve made a different decision. I wouldn’t have.

I had a paternity test done right after Luke was born. It confirmed he was mine. No need to remind her of the cold proof. That would only make it worse.