EZRA'S POV
"Daddy, I can't find Mr. Hoppy!"
Lily's panic cuts through my exhaustion. We've been unpacking for three hours, and there are still boxes everywhere. My back aches, my head pounds, and all I want is to collapse into bed and pretend today never happened.
But my daughter has lost her stuffed rabbit, and nothing else matters.
"Check the blue suitcase, sweetie," I call from the kitchen where I'm trying to figure out which box has our plates.
Kai appears beside me, gently taking the box from my shaking hands. "I've got this. You sit."
"I'm fine—"
"Ezra." His voice is firm but kind. "You've been running on fumes since the airport. Sit down before you fall down."
He's right. My legs are trembling. I sink into one of the kitchen chairs we haven't put together yet, and Kai immediately brings me water.
This is what he does. Takes care of things. Takes care of me. Takes care of the twins like they're his own blood.
He's perfect.
So why do I feel so hollow?
"FOUND HIM!" Lily emerges triumphant, clutching the worn rabbit to her chest. Lucas trails behind her, dragging his blanket.
"Can we watch cartoons?" Lucas asks with a yawn.
"Thirty minutes," I agree. "Then bath and bed. Big day tomorrow—first day at new preschool."
They cheer and race to the living room. Kai's already set up the TV for them. Of course he has.
He sits across from me at the half-assembled table. "You want to talk about it?"
"About what?"
"Ezra." He gives me that look—the one that says he knows I'm lying. "About seeing him again. About what happened at the airport."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"He called the twins his children in front of dozens of people. That's going to spread. You know how pack gossip works."
My stomach clenches. He's right. By tomorrow, half the city will know that Asher Thornwell confronted an Omega with twin children who have Thornwell silver eyes.
"Let them talk," I mutter. "I don't care what anyone thinks."
"But the twins might care. They're already asking questions."
The memory of Lucas's innocent voice makes my chest tight: "Is he my real daddy?"
"I'll handle it," I say, but I don't know how.
My phone buzzes. Sophie's face fills the screen—video call. I answer because if I don't, she'll just keep calling.
"Okay, spill," she demands immediately. "How was the flight? Did you see any—oh my god, what's wrong with your face?"
"What?"
"You look like you've seen a ghost. What happened?"
Kai quietly gets up to give me privacy, heading to the living room to supervise the twins. I wait until he's out of earshot.
"He was there," I whisper. "At the airport. Waiting for me."
Sophie's eyes go huge. "Asher? ASHER was there?"
"With a banner. And roses. Ninety-nine red roses."
"That manipulative—" She stops, studying my face. "Wait. You don't look angry. You look..."
"What?"
"Sad." Her voice softens. "Ezra, what happened?"
So I tell her. The banner, the roses, the way Asher looked when he saw the twins. The devastation on his face when Lucas asked about his pretty eyes. The way he dropped to his knees like someone had shot him.
"Good," Sophie says fiercely when I finish. "He deserves to suffer like you did. He deserves to know exactly what he threw away."
"Yeah," I agree, but the word tastes wrong.
"You don't sound convinced."
"He looked broken, Soph. Actually broken. Like his whole world had ended."
"GOOD! Do you not remember graduation? Do you not remember standing there while everyone laughed at you? While he called you FUN like you meant nothing?"
"I remember." How could I forget? "I remember all of it."
"Then why do you sound guilty?"
"I'm not—" But I am. Seeing Asher's face when the twins ran to Kai, when they called another man Papa—part of me felt vindicated. But another part felt sick. "He didn't know about them. He didn't know I was pregnant."
"So? That's his fault for throwing you away before checking!"
"But if he'd known—"
"NO." Sophie's voice turns sharp. "Don't do that. Don't rewrite history to make him the victim. He chose his family's approval over you. He humiliated you publicly. He never even tried to find you afterward. Not once in five years, Ezra. Until today, when suddenly there are children involved."
She's right. I know she's right. But it doesn't stop the ache in my chest.
"I have to go," I say. "Twins need baths."
"Ezra, be careful. Men like Asher Thornwell don't give up on things they think belong to them."
"The twins don't belong to him."
"Does he know that?"
We hang up. Her warning echoes in my head as I help Kai get the twins through bath time. They're tired, silly, making bubble beards and giggling. Normal. Happy.
This is what I built for them. Safety. Joy. A life without shame or secrets.
Asher could destroy all of it.
After baths, I tuck them into their new beds—matching twin beds with space-themed blankets Lucas picked and galaxy sheets Lily loved. They're drowsy, warm, safe.
"Daddy?" Lily's small voice stops me at the door.
"Yeah, baby?"
"That man at the airport. The one with pretty eyes like us. Is he really our biological father?"
My heart stops. "Who told you that word?"
"Papa Kai. In the car. He said the man was biological but not real. What's the difference?"
I sit on the edge of her bed, trying to find words a four-year-old can understand. "Biological means he helped make you. But being a real parent means being there. Taking care of you. Loving you every day."
"So Papa Kai is real, and that man isn't?"
"Yes."
Lucas speaks up from his bed, voice sleepy but serious: "But if the biological man wants to be real now, can he?"
The question freezes me. "What?"
"Can he become real if he tries really hard? You always say people can change if they try."
"That's... different."
"Why?"
Because I can't let Asher back into our lives. Because he'll hurt us again. Because I can't survive losing him twice.
But I can't say that to my children.
"Go to sleep," I whisper instead. "We'll talk about it later."
"But—"
"Sleep. Now."
They reluctantly close their eyes. I watch until their breathing evens out, then slip into my own room and close the door.
And then I break.
The tears come hot and fast, five years of pain pouring out. I press my face into my pillow to muffle the sobs because I can't let the twins hear. Can't let Kai hear.
I thought I was over this. I thought I'd healed. I thought seeing Asher would feel like revenge, like justice.
Instead, it just hurts.
Why does it still hurt so much?
My phone buzzes. Unknown number. I almost ignore it, but something makes me look.
It's a text message. Just three words:
"They're mine too."
My blood turns to ice. I know that number isn't saved, but I know exactly who it is.
Another text arrives:
"I made a mistake five years ago. I won't make another one. We need to talk about our children."
Our children. He said OUR children.
A third text:
"I've hired a lawyer. I'm not trying to scare you—I'm trying to do this right. But one way or another, Ezra, I will be in my children's lives. Please don't make this a war."
The phone slips from my shaking hands.
He hired a lawyer.
ASHER HIRED A LAWYER.
This isn't just a man who saw his children and felt regret. This is an Alpha who's decided what he wants and is taking action to get it.
This is the beginning of the custody battle I've been terrified of for four years.
I lunge for my own phone, frantically texting Sophie:
"He's going after custody. He hired a lawyer. Sophie, what do I do?"
Her response is immediate:
"Get your own lawyer. NOW. Tonight. Don't wait until morning."
Then another text from her:
"And Ezra? Whatever you do, don't trust him. He's not the boy you loved. He's a Thornwell Alpha who just found out he has heirs. You're not dealing with a heartbroken ex. You're dealing with a man who thinks he owns his children."
I stare at my phone, at Asher's messages, at Sophie's warning.
Twenty-four hours ago, I thought the hardest part of coming back would be facing old memories.
Now I realize the hardest part will be fighting the father of my children for the right to keep them.
And I have no idea if I'm strong enough to win.