Chapter Ten

OLIVIA'S POV

I didn't sleep.

I lay in the dark running the same loop. Damien's face in the kitchen. The way he'd said the real thing without flinching. The ultrasound image on my nightstand with the small raised arm.

Marcus's message is still unread on my phone.

At six I got up, showered, and sat on the edge of the bed in my robe. The apartment details Marcus had sent were still open in my browser. Two bedrooms. Good school district. A photograph of a small backyard with a wooden fence. Safe and clean and completely empty.

I tried to imagine my child growing up there. I could see it. I'd been able to see it for months, which was the point. It was real life. A good one.

I just couldn't stop seeing the other thing too.

Ethan's voice at dinner last night, easy and unprompted. The lemon pasta. The colored pins on the map of New York boroughs. The way Damien had asked questions and listened to the answers like he was finally learning how.

I picked up my phone and called Marcus before I could think past it.

He answered on the second ring. "Morning. You ready for noon?"

"I need to tell you something."

A pause. "Okay."

"I'm not taking the interview."

Longer pause. "Olivia….."

"I've thought about it. All night. I know what you're going to say."

"He had one good week."

"I know."

"You've been hiding a pregnancy for three months because you were afraid of him."

"I know."

"This is not a stable foundation."

"Marcus." I stopped him gently. "I hear all of it. And you're right about most of it. But I'm not staying for him. I'm staying because New York is where my child's father is, and their half-brother, and their grandmother, and because running to Portland to feel safe was never actually about what's best for this baby. It was about what's easiest for me."

He was quiet.

"I'm not moving back into the contract," I continued. "I'm going to find my own apartment. Get my nursing license updated and find work. I'm going to build something real here on my own terms." I exhaled. "But I'm not leaving."

"And Damien?"

"We'll figure out what that looks like. Slowly."

Another long pause. Then: "You need a lawyer for the co-parenting arrangement. Don't shake hands on anything without documentation."

"I know. That's why I have you."

"Olivia." His voice shifted to something quieter. "If he hurts you again—"

"Then I'll call you and you'll help me leave properly. But I have to try first." I looked at the ultrasound image. "I have to try."

He sighed. "Send me his lawyer's contact information."

"Thank you, Marcus."

I hung up and sat quietly for a moment. Then I got dressed.

*******************

Damien was in the kitchen at seven, earlier than usual. He looked like he hadn't slept either. He saw me come in and went still, reading my face before I said anything.

"I'm not taking the interview," I said.

He didn't react immediately. Controlled as always. "Why?"

"Because leaving wasn't the right choice. Not yet." I held up a hand before he could speak. "That's not a yes to anything. I'm finding my own apartment. I'm going back to nursing. We're going to work out a co-parenting arrangement through our lawyers, properly documented."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Damien. I'm not sliding back into this house and this contract and pretending the last four months didn't happen. I need my own space and my own life and clear boundaries."

"I understand."

"Do you? Because what you said last night—"

"I meant it." He kept his voice level. "I'm not asking you to come back to the contract. I'm not asking you to move back in. I heard what you said about doing this on your terms." He paused. "I just want to be there for the appointments. The ones going forward. If you'll allow it."

I looked at him for a moment. "I'll think about it."

"That's enough."

Mrs. Patterson came in and stopped when she felt the atmosphere. "Should I come back?"

"No," I said. "Everything's fine."

It wasn't fine exactly. But it wasn't broken in the same way it had been yesterday.

I told Victoria after breakfast.

She was in the sitting room with her tea, and when I explained my decision she set the cup down and looked at me with an expression that was equal parts relief and caution.

"You're staying in New York but not in the house," she repeated.

"Yes."

"And Damien knows."

"We talked this morning."

She studied me. "Are you sure about this? Not for his sake. For yours."

"No," I said honestly. "But I think the unsure version of staying is braver than the certain version of leaving."

Victoria was quiet for a moment. Then she reached over and covered my hand with hers. "I'll help you find an apartment. I know people."

"I can manage—"

"I know you can. Let me anyway." She squeezed once and let go. "And Olivia. Whatever happens between you and my son, that baby is my grandchild. I want to be part of their life."

"I know." I hadn't planned to say the next part but it came out anyway. "I want that too. I never had a grandmother. I don't want my child to miss that."

Her expression softened in a way I hadn't seen before.

We sat together while the morning moved around us.

Upstairs I could hear Ethan getting ready for school. Damien's voice carrying from the foyer, calm and ordinary, telling him not to forget his project.

My phone buzzed. Marcus: "Fine. But I'm drafting the co-parenting terms myself. Tell him to brace.”

I almost smiled.