Chapter 14

The cold air clung to my coat like frostbite I couldn’t shake off. I stepped into the house and closed the door behind me, the latch clicking into place louder than I expected. My chest felt tight, the weight of everything Alpha Conan and I had just uncovered pressing into my ribs like iron. But then—laughter.

Light and high-pitched.

Jayden.

His laughter was the only thing that ever truly softened the noise in my head. I looked toward the living room. He was curled up on the couch, tiny knees pulled to his chest, hands gripping two of his toy trucks. His soft curls bounced as he zoomed one truck along the armrest, a sound effect on his lips. He looked so… untouched. So unaware.

But my gaze moved past him—and landed on Jonathan.

He sat like a king in a throne he didn’t deserve. Legs crossed, one arm casually draped across the back of the couch, head tilted slightly like he was posing for a photo he didn’t know was being taken. His smile was smooth, practiced, polished.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, voice warm enough to make a stranger believe him. “You’re back early. Everything okay?”

Sweetheart.

Since when did I become that again?

“Yeah,” I murmured, careful. Every word had to be weighed now. “Just wanted to come home.”

I hung up my coat on the rack, fingers stiff from cold—and something else. Fear. I didn’t look back at him. My spine was too aware of his eyes.

Jayden ran to me like sunshine after a storm. I bent and scooped him up, burying my nose in the crook of his neck. He smelled like shampoo and safety. I held him a second too long.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you too, baby.” I kissed his soft cheek, trying not to let my lips tremble.

He pulled back slightly, placing his tiny palms on either side of my face, squinting at me with too much knowing for a five-year-old.

“Are you happy now?” he asked. “Daddy said you were just tired because of work.”

I forced a smile, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Mommy’s just fine now.”

His eyes searched mine like he didn’t believe me. But he nodded anyway.

Jonathan rose and stretched, arms flexing beneath his fitted shirt. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he announced. “I made pasta—your favorite. Thought we could all eat together tonight.”

His voice was casual. His eyes were not.

It was a test. A dare. Smile back. Pretend.

So I did. “Sounds nice. I’ll go wash up.”

The bathroom mirror was too honest. I stared at the woman in the reflection—eyes shadowed, mouth tight, jaw clenched like a soldier’s. I touched my cheek. It felt like someone else’s skin.

I could still hear Conan’s voice echoing in my head: They’ll get desperate now.

I splashed cold water on my face. It didn’t help.

When I returned, everything was disturbingly… perfect. The table was set. Jayden was in his seat, giggling as he adjusted his placemat and arranged his blue fork just right. His favorite. Jonathan was lighting candles. Real ones. Not even the scented ones I hated.

He pulled out my chair.

Old habits. Or a performance.

“Wine?” he offered.

“Water’s fine,” I replied without thinking.

He poured wine anyway and placed it by my hand. A power move. He wanted to remind me of something—maybe control. Maybe that he was still watching.

Dinner passed in quiet conversation, the kind that used to feel safe but now felt rehearsed. Jonathan asked about my work, complimented the council’s latest decision, even told Jayden a story about a time he got stuck in a tree as a boy. His voice was animated, charming even. But every few minutes, I felt his eyes flick to me.

Measuring.

Guessing.

He knew something.

Or he was trying to.

Jayden yawned midway through a second helping. I wiped the corner of his mouth gently and smiled.

“Time for bed, sweetheart.”

“Five more minutes!” he whined.

“Nope. Big field trip tomorrow, remember?”

His eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! The farm with the goats!”

I carried him to his room, humming under my breath as he rested his head on my shoulder. The weight of his small body against mine was grounding. I laid him in bed, tucked the covers around him, and brushed his curls back.

He mumbled something about the goats in his sleep and turned over, clutching his stuffed lion.

I kissed his temple, and with careful fingers, unzipped the tiny seam I’d cut earlier into the lion’s side. The recording ring slid in easily. I sewed it shut, my hands steady now.

He wouldn’t know. No one would.

Not until I needed it again.

When I came back out, Jonathan was stretched on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he heard me, and for a moment, something in his face softened—something too carefully shaped to be real.

“I missed this,” he said, patting the spot beside him. “You. Us. Being a family.”

I hesitated.

Then I sat.

His arm slid around my shoulder like it had done a thousand times before, like muscle memory that didn’t need permission. My spine stiffened, but I said nothing.

“You’ve been going out a lot lately,” he said lightly.

Here we go.

“I needed space. Clarity. Things have been… tense.”

He nodded slowly. “With work? Or with me?”

I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. “Both.”

His fingers brushed my wrist like a question. Then slid away like a retreat.

“Are you seeing someone, Maya?”

I blinked. The question felt like it had teeth.

Almost laughed. Almost.

“Are you?” I asked instead, voice even.

He didn’t flinch. But his smile held something sharper now.

“I just want us to be honest with each other again.”

“You first.”

Our gazes locked. Two people in a house full of ghosts. Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead, lingering too long.

“Let’s not fight tonight,” he whispered. “For Jayden.”

I didn’t respond. I watched him walk away like he hadn’t just set something on fire.

Later—maybe hours later—I woke to a sound.

A drawer.

Soft, almost silent. But I’d learned to listen.

I got up slowly, bare feet brushing cool tiles as I stepped into the hallway. The house felt darker than usual. Or maybe it was just me.

The office door was cracked slightly open.

He stood inside, back to me, shoulders hunched. The glow of his phone lit his face. He was staring down at a file.

When he noticed me, he smiled.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said casually. “Just organizing old paperwork.”

“At 2 a.m.?”

He shrugged. “Some habits die hard.”

I said nothing. Just stood there, watching him.

Then I turned and walked away.

My heart thudded as I returned to bed. My hands were ice-cold beneath the covers. The ceiling stared back at me, blank and heavy.

Jonathan was looking for something.

He knew the game was shifting.

But so did I.

And I would not lose. Not this time.

Not for me.

Not for Jayden.

Because love was no longer a reason to stay.

It was the reason I had to fight.