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It looks like Selene has everything under control, so I let her take over getting Serena ready.

The sight of her kneeling in front of Serena, drying her hair so carefully and making sure her ears are dry before dressing her in pajamas, makes my chest tighten painfully.

It’s one of the dreams and plans I once had for myself—one of the things I believed, until recently, I’d actually get to live.

But fate always seems to have something else in mind, and now those dreams feel impossible.

So I pull out my phone and bury myself in a few work emails until Serena is ready for us to play.

What’s the point in torturing myself?

I can’t change anything that happened, and I can’t condemn myself for something I didn’t do wrong, even if it still destroyed my relationship.

How am I supposed to fix something that doesn’t seem to have a solution?

By now, I know the answer is simple: I can’t.

And I have to learn how to live with that.

Because accepting it? I already have.

What else was I supposed to do?

FORTY-FOUR

Selene

I’d been trying to get Serena to sleep for over half an hour, but she kept opening her eyes and asking me all sorts of questions. Questions I couldn’t help answering, which apparently isn’t very helpful when you’re trying to put a child to bed.

Without saying a word, Zayn got up from the armchair he’s settled into after spending nearly an hour playing with her and the mountain of new toys he’d bought, then knelt beside her bed. She immediately turned to him, and I took advantage of the moment to head downstairs to the kitchen.

Where I still am.

I think we passed bedtime a long time ago, somewhere between the ridiculously long bath, getting ready for bed, and the entire play session, but honestly, I don’t think I could’ve gotten her out of the tub if he hadn’t shown up.

How are parents supposed to enforce strict rules when kids look at them with those huge eyes and that adorable pout on their faces?

I cleaned and wiped down the bathroom as they played, and when I came back into the room and Serena invited me to join them, Zayn stood up from beside her and said he had some urgent emails he needed to answer and that she should get ready for bed. Then he sat back in the armchair, absorbed in whatever he was looking at on his phone.

I climb onto one of the chairs and grab a mug to make myself some tea when I hear footsteps. I turn just in time to see Zayn making his way down the stairs, heading straight for the front door.

“I’m assuming you’re sleeping here,” he says without sparing me a single glance. “She’s asleep, and the monitor’s in their room on Sierra’s nightstand.”

He doesn’t even wait to see if I answer, one hand already on the doorknob, his eyes still fixed on that damn phone.

Which drives me insane.

He hasn’t looked at me once since he got here.

“But…”

I stop when I realize he’s already outside and the door has shut behind him.

Furious, I climb down from the chair, leave the mug on the kitchen island, and hurry after him. I yank the door open and find him halfway down the path connecting the houses, heading back to his place.

Still staring at his phone.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I shout so loudly that I immediately flinch, suddenly terrified Serena might’ve heard me.