Chapter 26

Iris

The amusement park is a riot of color and noise, families milling about and the sounds of game machines whirring through the air.

Miles is perched on top of Arthur’s shoulders high above the crowd, his face is split in the widest grin I’ve ever seen.

I can’t help but smile.

As we make our way through the crowd, Miles points out a stuffed shark that catches his eye. It’s hanging over one of those gimmicky game booths where you have to hit the targets to win a prize. The game itself is likely rigged, but Arthur doesn’t hesitate to hand the booth attendant a few bills and pick up the rubber ball.

Unsurprisingly, Arthur hits all of the targets in one go, winning Miles the stuffed shark. Miles clutches it to his chest, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Daddy!” he beams.

My stomach turns over at the sound of that word—Daddy—but I keep my expression neutral. Once again, I’m reminded of the lie I told Miles the other day. It’s been nagging at me nonstop, keeping me awake at night.

Lying to him makes me feel like a horrible mother. Even more so when it seems as though he’s seen right through my lie, coming to his own conclusion that Arthur is, in fact, his father, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

We make our way through the park, stopping at various attractions and booths. Arthur spoils Miles rotten with treats, toys, and laughter, never hesitating to pull out his wallet and try a new game or a decadent snack. And all the while, Miles is happy as can be, chattering nonstop about his new shark and which rides he wants to try.

For a little while, it feels like we’re a real family. It feels as if we’re almost making up for all of the years we spent apart, or better yet, as if we were never apart at all.

And if I really try not to think about the hats covering our heads or the sunglasses hiding Arthur’s eyes from the public, I can imagine us having spent the last five years together, just like this, smiling and happy and doing all the things that a normal family would do.

But once again, the moment doesn’t last long. Because as we’re passing by a gift shop, a rack of magazines catches my eye—with one of them displaying a perfectly posed photograph of Arthur and Selina together.

“The Alpha President and his Luna,” the headline reads, cutting behind the perfect blonde locks cascading across Selina’s shoulders. “Wedding Plans, Mansion Tour, and More!”

I slow, pausing to look at the image. There’s no denying it: she looks as stunning as ever, her lips a vibrant red, her eyes soft and serene. Her teeth are perfectly straight and pearly white, and she’s wearing a blush pink dress that makes her look like a princess.

And what’s worse, she’s holding Arthur’s arm with her engagement ring on display.

That enormous, gaudy diamond looks like a mockery. I swear I can feel it staring at me as if it has eyes of its own.

Arthur, for his part, looks utterly stoic and handsome as hell in the image. His jawline is sharp, not a hint of stubble to be seen, not a hair out of place. His suit strains ever so slightly across his shoulders and biceps, just enough sex appeal to sell to the masses, while portraying this polished, pristine family man.

Only to the rest of the world, he doesn’t have a family. Not yet, anyway.

Once more, it’s just a reminder that I’ll never view him as being the real father of my child—that even days like this won’t count for all the years he missed because he preferred her over what we could have had.

“Mommy, look!”

Miles’ voice pulls me out of my bitter reverie, and I turn to see him standing hand-in-hand with Arthur a little ways away, pointing at one of those kiddie rides with the spinning teacups. I force a smile and make my way over to them, and we climb onto the open cup that the attendant picks out for us.

As the teacups spin lazily around the track, Miles hums happily, his little fingers dancing across the rim of the cup. I tilt my head back, letting the cool air soothe my flushed skin. It’s hotter than I expected it to be today, and in the spots where my hair has become stuck to the back of my neck from sweat, the air feels nice and cold.

But as I rest there, my eyes shut, I feel someone watching me. I open my eyes to see Arthur sitting on the other side of the teacup, his elbows braced on his knees.

He’s staring at me. Intensely.

I almost tell him to stop staring, but I don’t—because there’s something in his gaze that gives me pause. Something soft and tender, similar to the look on his face when he was gazing at that painting earlier. Something that reminds me of the man I once loved.

It makes me wonder if that man is still inside of him, somewhere, somehow. And maybe he’s just trapped, trapped by this strange, picture-perfect shell of an Alpha President, and he’s trying to get out.

But that’s ridiculous. Arthur was like this before he officially became the President of Ordan. He was just biding his time, using me for physical comfort while he campaigned, and now he’s only doing this to get that physical comfort back—as well as his heir.

We spend the remainder of the afternoon enjoying the park, and I put on a smile for Miles’ sake. By midday, Miles is exhausted enough to fall asleep in Arthur’s arms, his head lolling against Arthur’s shoulder.

The sight makes my chest ache all over again.

As we make our way back to the car, Arthur turns to me with that look in his eyes. I know where this is about to go before he even says it.

“I hope today changed your mind,” he says, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Miles. “Let me buy you and our son a big house. We’ll spend plenty of days just like this.”

The thought of more days acting like a happy little family makes my heart flutter, but it also fills me with a sense of dread. Yeah, sure, plenty more days wearing disguises because he can’t bring himself to have a human mate.

“I already said no, Arthur,” I reiterate, crossing my arms. “I’m financially stable on my own, and I like our new apartment. And besides, Miles is my son, not yours.”

Arthur’s jaw clenches, and he looks like he’s about to say something else. But just then, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to glance at the caller ID.

“Selina,” he answers the phone, and just the sound of her name on his lips makes my blood pressure spike. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I just need to finish wrapping something up. See you soon.”

Wrapping something up. Like Miles and I are an errand.

He hangs up the phone and turns to me, opening his mouth as if to make some excuse, but I hold my hand up. “Your fiancee needs you. And I need to get Miles home.”

Arthur stares at me for a moment, but then nods and carefully buckles the still-sleeping Miles into his car seat. Once again, I can’t help but wonder if Arthur and Selina are planning on having a child, and that’s why he just so happens to have a car seat and a child-sized hat, but I quickly push the thoughts away.

It’s not long before we’re pulling up in front of the apartment again. I get Miles out myself, cradling him against my chest as I hesitate on the sidewalk.

“Thanks,” I say, chewing my lip. “For today. I’m sure Miles appreciates it.”

Arthur glances at the sleeping boy in my arms, then at me, and for the briefest of moments, there’s that tender look in his eyes again. But it’s gone just as quickly as it came, and with no more than a curt nod and a gruff, “Goodbye, Iris,” he gets back in his car and pulls away.

I don’t wait for him to be out of sight before I head inside. But only once I’m alone, Miles still out cold in my arms, do I finally let out the shuddering breath I’ve been holding. When I blink, and the mirror on the entryway wall materializes before me, I realize that my vision clouded with tears at some point.

And staring back at me is my reflection, still wearing that stupid baseball hat.

If only today could have been real. If only we could have gone out, a happy little family, no disguises, no Selina pulling Arthur away from us.

Then it might have been perfect.

But that’s not the case. None of it was real, and I know that Arthur only did any of this to get what he wants, nothing more. He can’t even be his true self with us—his face must be a perfect mask.

Wearing the same smile he carefully crafted for the cover of that magazine.

Perfect, poised, and hollow.