Page 120

“If this baby is yours, you can send financial support every month. Be responsible in that way. But don’t bring that woman into your life. Don’t let her in your house. Don’t let her near Blaire or Theo. Don’t let her shape the way your family sees each other.” He shakes his head. “If I were in your shoes—with a family I already built before she ever came along—I’d walk away. Completely.”

The quiet that follows feels crushing.

I stare at him, stunned. I’d expected him to chew me out. Call me every name in the book. Tell me I was a selfish asshole who needed to step up no matter what and then beat my ass for putting his sister in this position. Instead, he seems sympathetic.

Chance meets my eyes, steady and serious. “Don’t sacrifice Blaire and Theo for a woman who’d love nothing more than to rip them away from you.”

I grip the deck railing, the wood biting into my palms. The thought of signing away rights to my own kid—if it even is mine—makes me feel sick. But the thought of letting Veronica anywhere near the life I’m rebuilding with Blaire feels worse.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” I admit, voice rough. “Walk away like that if it’s my kid.”

Chance doesn’t push. He just claps a hand on my shoulder, heavy and solid. “Then you better figure something out because Blaire’s not going to wait around for years for you to get your shit together again.”

I close my eyes and let the cold air burn my lungs. The worst part is that I agree with him. It would be easier—God, so much easier—if I could just wash my hands of this whole thing. Say fuck it, sign away my rights the second the test comes back, and never look back. But something deep in my gut twists at the thought, because I know Blaire wouldn’t allow it. She already seems to have this quiet, reluctant sympathy for Veronica, and I know exactly why. This could have just as easily been her. If I hadn’t stepped up when Theo came into the picture, if I’d been the kind of man who walked away, she might’ve ended up in Veronica’s shoes—alone, scared, carrying a piece of me she never asked for.

“I don’t think Blaire would let me just do that,” I say, the words scraping out on an exasperated breath.

Chance sighs, long and heavy. “Yeah. Probably not. She’s too damn nice for her own good.”

I glance through the glass door. Blaire’s standing in the living room with Brittney now, arms loosely crossed as they talk. Even from here I can see the tightness between her brows, the way her mouth is pressed into a thin line. They’re talking about Veronica—I’d bet money on it. As if she can feel my eyes on her, Blaire looks up. Our gazes lock through the glass. Her jaw tightens further, something protective and worried flickering across her face.

“We should go back in,” I mutter, already turning toward the door. “I don’t want to upset her any more than I already have.”

Chance hesitates, then steps forward and pulls me into a rough hug, clapping a hand between my shoulder blades. “You’re a good man, Simon.”

The sincerity in his voice hits harder than I expect. My throat tightens as I hug him back, the cold seeping through our jackets. For a second I let myself lean into it—this rare, steady anchor from the one person who’s seen every messy version of me.

“Thanks,” I manage, voice low. “Doesn’t feel like it right now.”

He pulls back, giving my shoulder one last squeeze.

We head inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around us like a second skin that currently feels too tight. Blaire’s eyes find mine immediately, soft with concern, and I force a small nod I don’t quite feel. Brittney gives Chance a questioning look and he makes an ugly face at her, flipping her off.

“Mind your business, pig nose,” Chance taunts, voice low but loud enough to carry.

Brittney’s eyebrows shoot up. “Pig nose? Real mature, we have the same nose dumbass.”

Blaire snorts, trying to be an adult and not laugh. “Language. Little ears.”

Brittney and Chance fall into overlapping bickering—light jabs and old stories traded back and forth like a well-worn game. I step into Blaire’s side, wrapping an arm around her and pressing a kiss to her temple.

Theo and his cousins are sprawled across the living room floor with a pile of LEGOs, building some chaotic fortress while the baby naps in Sophia’s arms. The whole scene feels like exactly the kind of loving family I’d always wanted.

My gaze drifts to Leo.

Chance’s words from the deck echo in my head: the poison, the way a kid can repeat things that cut deep, the hell it puts on everyone else. I think about what it would mean to bring another child into this and how easy it would be for Veronica to turn that kid into a weapon the way Leo’s mom has. Blaire wouldn’t let me walk away, not completely, and part of me is grateful for that even while it terrifies me. She’s too good, too willing to see the best in people who don’t deserve it. Including me.

All I can do is hope this baby isn’t mine. And if the universe decides to be cruel, then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure no one suffers for my mistakes—not Blaire, not Theo, and not that innocent child who didn’t ask to be caught in the middle of my mess. The thought sits like a stone in my chest, heavy and unmovable, but I shove it down for now. This moment, with her laughter ringing soft and real, feels too precious to poison.

I grit my jaw and lean down, pressing another kiss to her temple. Her hair smells like the lavender shampoo she uses, and I linger there, breathing her in while she laughs at something Brittney just said about Chance’s terrible taste in music.

“You okay?” Blaire asks, tilting her head up to look at me. The little green flecks in her brown eyes catch the warm kitchen light, making them sparkle even though worry shadows the rest of her face. “We can go if you don’t want to stay longer. Seriously. Theo’s had enough sugar for one night anyway.”

I shake my head, tightening my arm around her shoulders just a fraction. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, sweet girl.”

Chapter thirty-four

Blaire