[Sophie’s POV]

Adrian comes home different.

I notice it immediately—the tight set of his shoulders, the way his eyes won’t quite meet mine, the silence that wraps around him like armor. The lightness we’ve been basking in since the ruling has disappeared, replaced by something dark and heavy that fills the room when he enters. The air itself seems to change, growing thick and oppressive, and I feel my heart begin to race with the instinct that something has gone terribly wrong.

“What happened?” I ask, struggling to sit up straighter against the mountain of pillows supporting my aching back. “Adrian, talk to me.”

He stands by the window, staring out at the city, his reflection a ghost in the glass. The fading light catches the tension in his jaw, the shadows under his eyes that seem deeper than they were this morning. For a long moment, I think he won’t answer. The silence stretches between us, growing heavier with each passing second.

“Lisette found me. Outside the coffee shop.”

The name sends ice through my veins, a visceral reaction that makes my whole body go rigid. “She what? Adrian, that’s a violation of the court order. We need to call Diana—”

“She was careful. Kept her distance. Said she was just walking down a public street.” His laugh is hollow, bitter, a sound that makes my chest ache. “She’s always careful. Even when she loses, she finds ways to win.”

Cassian appears in the doorway, drawn by our voices. He takes in the scene—Adrian’s rigid posture, my distress—and moves to join us, settling on the arm of the couch near my feet. His presence is steadying, but I can see the concern etched into his features.

“What did she say?” he asks quietly.

Adrian is silent for another long moment. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, cracked and wounded.

“She asked if I was really going to raise the baby. Reminded me that we don’t know whose child Maggie is. Said the question would eat at me forever—wondering if she’s mine, wondering if I see myself in her or if I see you.”

The cruelty of it steals my breath. My hands curl into fists at my sides, rage and helplessness warring in my chest. Even in defeat, Lisette found the one weapon we couldn’t protect against—the uncertainty we’d agreed didn’t matter, now weaponized against us.

“Adrian.” I reach for him, but he doesn’t turn from the window. The distance between us feels vast, unbridgeable. “You know that doesn’t matter. We decided—”

“I know what we decided.” His voice cracks, splintering on the words. “I know what we said, what we agreed, what I believe intellectually. But she’s right about one thing. I do want to know. Some part of me has always wanted to know, even when I was telling myself it didn’t matter.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy with implications. I look at Cassian, seeing my own complicated emotions reflected in his expression—the surprise, the hurt, the understanding that wars with both. We’d made the choice not to test for noble reasons—because biology shouldn’t determine family, because we wanted Maggie to feel equally loved by both her fathers. But noble reasons don’t always survive contact with reality.

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