“Of course not,” Arthur says, looking genuinely hurt by the suggestion. “Iris, I would never do that to you. Or to Miles.”
I sink onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. “Then who did?”
“I don’t know. But I intend to find out.” He sits beside me, careful to maintain some distance. “How are you feeling? Should yout
even be out of the hospital?”
“I’m fine,” I say automatically. “The doctors were… surprised by how quickly I healed.”
Arthur blinks, clearly just as surprised as the doctors. And me, for that matter.
h the CPS agent.
“Thank you,” I say after a moment. “For what you did. At the hospital, and just now with
“You don’t need to thank me. I’ll always protect you and Miles.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Iris, about the custody case
“I’m not dropping it,” I say quickly, steeling myself against the softening I feel toward him. “What happened at the hospital,
what happened just now–it doesn’t change anything.”
Arthur sighs. “Can we just talk about this?”
I shake my head. I made my point the last time we spoke about this, the day we talked in the parking lot after the meeting. And despite everything, I need to be certain. Need to be sure that no one can take Miles from me.
“Fine. Then let’s not talk tonight,” Arthur says, surprising me. “Let me make dinner for you both.”
I blink at him. “Dinner? Again?”
“You shouldn’t be cooking in your condition anyway,” he points out. “Let me help. I can meal prep for the week so you don’t have
to worry about it.”
The offer is tempting, I have to admit. The thought of cooking for myself and Miles when every movement still causes some
discomfort isn’t appealing. But having Arthur here, in my space, playing house again… it feels dangerous.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say softly.
“Please, Iris,” Arthur says. “One meal. For Miles. He misses us being together.”
As if on cue, Miles peeks around the corner. “Daddy’s staying for dinner?”
Arthur looks at me, waiting for my answer. I sigh, already knowing I’m going to give in. Not for Arthur, I tell myself. For Miles.
“Yes, Daddy’s staying for dinner,” I say, and the joy that lights up my son’s face almost makes the inevitable heartache worth it.
I watch as Arthur leads Miles to the kitchen, already talking about what they might prepare together. Brian and Liam stop in the doorway, staring at me in shock. I just throw my hands up in silent resignation, shrug, and then lean my head back against the
1/2
pillows and let myself rest for a few minutes,
+20 Bonus
When dinner is finally ready, Arthur sets the table while Miles proudly carries over a basket of garlic bread. Once again, they’ve prepared a mouthwatering meal with enough food to feed a small village for a week. At this point, I’m not sure if Miles is going to grow up to be an artist or a chef.
But just as we’re sitting down for dinner, Arthur’s face shifts. He narrows his eyes and presses one finger to his temple. I can tell he’s receiving a Mindlink. From Ezra?
Then, suddenly, he stands again before the rest of us have even begun to eat.
“I have to go,” he says abruptly, already reaching for his jacket.
I stare up at him, stunned. Even Miles drops his fork “What’s happened?” I ask, feeling a pang of disappointment shoot through
- me.
“Just… business.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it, which tells me he’s lying. Even after all this time, I can always tell. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Without another word, without even saying goodbye to Miles, Arthur strides to the door and leaves.
