FAZER LOGINCade's POVBreakfast smelled like bacon and disaster.I sat at the far end of the table with my coffee untouched in front of me, watching the steam curl off it and die, because drinking it would have required unclenching my jaw, and my jaw had decided sometime around three in the morning that it was staying clenched indefinitely.Ezra sat across from Scarlett with the easy, unhurried posture of a man who had never once in his life worried about whether he belonged in a room. He'd showered. His hair was doing that thing where it looked deliberately unstyled, which took more effort than styled hair ever did, and he was currently explaining something about soil composition to my stepmother, while she hung on every word like he was reciting scripture."....And that's the thing about Bermuda grass," Ezra was saying. "Beautiful in the summer, but it chokes out everything else if you don't manage it.""Fascinating," Rachel said, and she meant it, the traitor.I picked up my fork. Set it down
Cade's POVI paced the room, back and forth, back and forth, my bare feet dragging over the cool wooden floorboards of the boys' quarters. The place was still dim, lit only by that thin blade of moonlight slicing through the blinds and falling in pale stripes across the bed, across her legs, across the mess of sheets we'd left tangled less than an hour ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then. A different night. A different life.I could still see the pain in Scarlett's eyes, even in this half-dark. It sat there, raw and glistening, and it hurt me worse than the slap had. The slap I could shake off, my cheek still carrying a faint sting and warmth where her palm had connected, but this, watching her carry the weight of all of this at her age, watching her fold into herself on the floor as the world had just caved in around her, was something I didn't know how to fix. It only seemed to get worse by the hour, like a wound that refused to close, no matter how much pressure I ap
Scarlett's POVThe room was dark except for the thin slice of moonlight slipping through the blinds, silver stripes falling across the sheets, and somewhere outside, a lone cricket kept up its steady chirp as if it had nowhere better to be. I had my eyes closed, half asleep against Cade's shoulder, when his voice found me in the quiet."Have you thought about a name for my children yet?"His voice was the warmest thing I'd ever heard, low and rough with sleep and affection, and his hand moved in slow circles over the swell of my stomach, two heartbeats stubbornly overlapping on the monitor like they couldn't be bothered to take turns. His palm was warm, calloused from work, and it made something in my chest go soft and stupid every single time."Your children?""Yes. Why?""Nothing. It just sounded funny, that's all. Like you did all the work.""Well, get used to it." He propped himself up on one elbow, the moonlight catching that lopsided grin that had gotten me into this mess in the
Scarlett's POVMy mother's voice arrived a half second before she did, bright and unaware of everything simmering beneath the surface of the evening."Ezra, my dear." She smiled at him with the easy warmth she extended to guests, oblivious to what her hospitality was actually housing. "The room is ready for you. Would you like white or red wine sent up?"Ezra rose immediately, the transformation instant and seamless, the careful, cold thing I'd glimpsed a moment ago folding itself away behind manners polished to a shine."Thank you very much, ma'am, but I'm done with alcohol for the night." He offered her a smile that looked, infuriatingly, completely sincere. "Sparkling water will be just fine. And thank you again for your hospitality. You've been more than generous.""You're more than welcome, my dear." My mother beamed at him the way she'd once beamed at me, and something in my chest twisted at the sight of it, at how easily he'd claimed a piece of her warmth that should have belon
Scarlett's POVThe balcony had emptied itself of my mother's warmth and was now just a balcony again, which is to say it was beautiful and indifferent and large enough that two people could stand in it without being close to each other if they were careful about where they positioned themselves.I had poured the wine before I fully decided to pour it.The bottle was still on the table from my mother's earlier hospitality, and my hand had found it with the automatic motion of someone reaching for something familiar in an unfamiliar moment, the glass filling with the deep red of a Cabernet that James kept in quantities that suggested he understood the therapeutic value of good wine on difficult evenings.Ezra was still standing.Not intruding. Not filling the silence with the social effort that some people deployed when silence made them uncomfortable. Just present in it, looking out at the garden with the settled quality of someone who had made peace with being somewhere he was not ent
Scarlett’s POVClean and cold, the specific guilt of deceiving someone whose trust you had done nothing to deserve to lose, someone whose delight in the deception was genuine and warm and entirely uninformed."But Mum…""I'm sure Cade and James won't mind." She had the particular forward momentum of a woman who had made up her mind and was now in the implementation phase. "So go and tell the housekeeper to prepare the guest room.""It's fine, Mrs Blackwood." Ezra's voice, from the chair, carrying the appropriate note of genuine reluctance, the protest of someone who did not want to impose and meant it. "I can find a hotel, it's really no trouble…""Nonsense." My mother picked up her glass, looked at it, set it down again with the decisive quality of someone closing a chapter. "Scarlett has been hiding you from me. And now that I have finally met you, we have to bond properly." She smiled at him with the complete, uncomplicated warmth she gave to people she had decided were family, and
Scarlett’s POVThe hotel was the kind that did not need to announce itself.No enormous signs. No aggressive branding visible from the street. Just a building that existed with the quiet, absolute confidence of something that had been excellent for long enough that it no longer required anyone's va
Scarlett’s POVI looked up again because the first look had not fully processed what was in front of it and required a second to complete the task.He was tall. The kind of tall that announced itself without effort, that reorganised the spatial relationships of the people around it simply by being
Scarlett’s POVThe word baby.Not the pregnancy. Not the situation. Not the complication. My baby.Something cracked open in my chest, something that had been sealed shut since the sonographer turned the screen and said two, something that had been managing the information from a careful distance,
Scarlett's POVThe silence in the house was suffocating. Every creak of the floorboards, every hum of the air conditioning, and every tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway felt like it was mocking me. I stared at Madison's text for the hundredth time, the photo burning itself into my retinas







