I don’t say anything else after that.
I don’t need to.
Something settled in that silence, something that isn’t fear or panic or even logic anymore, just a quiet, steady acceptance that this is where I am right now.
I'm here with him and our child.
And whatever comes next.
Jace doesn’t push it.
That might be the thing that shifts everything more than anything he said.
He doesn’t press for more. Doesn’t try to lock in the decision or turn it into something bigger than what it is.
He just nods once, like he understands exactly what I gave him.
His hand brushes Hadley’s shoulder again as he steps back, light and steady, and she leans into it without thinking, like she’s already decided something I’m still trying to sort through.
I watch that longer than I should.
The ease of it.
The way she trusts him.
The way he doesn’t make a thing out of it.
And something in my chest shifts again, softer this time, but deeper.
More dangerous.
Because this isn’t just about safety anymore.
It isn’t just about the note or the man standing in the shadows watching us like we’re part of something he already set in motion.
I’ve spent five years making sure nothing could get close enough to matter.
Five years keeping everything contained, controlled, predictable.
No surprises.
No dependencies.
No one standing close enough to be something I could lose.
And now—
I glance at Jace again.
He’s talking to Lane, low and focused, already shifting into whatever comes next, already moving forward like leaving was never an option.
Like protecting us was just… part of the plan.
That thought should make me pull back.
It should make me put distance between us before this turns into something I can’t walk away from clean.
Instead…
