Chapter 96

Iris

Arthur turns to me as we pull up to my apartment building later. “They seemed to like you.”

“Your parents?” I ask, glancing at him. “Yeah, they were nice. Especially after that awkward first meeting.”

He makes a noncommittal sound, staring out the windshield for a moment before turning off the engine. His profile is sharp in the dim light from the street lamps, his jaw tense.

“What?” I ask, sensing there’s something he’s not saying.

Arthur sighs, turning to face me. “My parents aren’t exactly what they seem, Iris. They’ve always been very… politically minded.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that their interest in Miles might not be entirely innocent. They’re shrewd Alphas. Always calculating, always planning ten steps ahead.”

I frown, thinking back to their questions about Miles, their eagerness to meet him. “They seemed genuinely excited about having a grandson. Is that really so suspicious?”

“I’m just saying you should be cautious with how much you share,” he says. “Particularly about…”

His voice trails off, and I nod slowly, pressing my lips together. “You think they’ll judge Miles because he’s not…” I make air quotes with my fingers. “‘Normal’.”

Arthur’s eyes widen. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay,” I cut him off, touching his arm. “I kind of figured. But we can’t keep it from them forever. Everyone notices eventually.”

He looks at me for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times, then nods. I know he’s not ashamed of Miles, though, so I don’t blame him. It’s a sensitive subject, especially with people from an older generation.

Arthur walks me to my door, his hand resting protectively on the small of my back. The memory of those same hands on my bare skin just hours ago makes my heart thrum. We still have so much to figure out between us, so many conversations to have.

As I unlock the door, Arthur asks, “Would it be alright if I stayed tonight? After what happened…”

I hesitate with the key in the lock.

“For security,” he adds quickly, mistaking my silence for reluctance. “I’d feel better knowing you and Miles are safe.”

The mention of Miles decides it for me. It’s probably for the best if we don’t take things further than we did earlier, but the idea of having Arthur close after everything that happened does comfort me. “Okay,” I say, pushing the door open. “You can take the couch.”

Inside, I find Alice asleep on the sofa, a book resting on her chest. Miles must be in bed already. She stirs as we enter, blinking sleepily.

“You’re back,” she mumbles, sitting up and yawning. “How was the gala? Anyone kill you?”

I laugh despite myself. “Almost. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

Alice gathers her things, eyeing Arthur. “You’re staying?” she asks him directly.

“If that’s alright with you,” he replies with a snort.

She shrugs, shouldering her bag. “Your mate, your business.” With a quick hug for me and a nod to Arthur, she’s gone, leaving us alone in the suddenly quiet apartment.

“I should check on Miles,” I say, setting my purse down.

“Can I join you?” Arthur asks.

“Of course.”

Miles’ room is dimly lit by his night light, casting blue shadows across his sleeping form. He’s completely sprawled out, legs going in opposite directions, one arm thrown over his head and the other dangling toward the floor. The blanket is completely discarded, sitting in a pile next to the bed.

He looks ridiculous. And utterly adorable.

As I move to pick up the blanket, Miles stirs, his eyes fluttering open. “Mommy?” he mumbles sleepily.

“I’m home, bud,” I say softly as I lay the blanket over him. “Go back to sleep.”

But Miles’ gaze has already shifted to Arthur, who’s standing behind me. “Daddy?” He sits up, suddenly more awake. “You’re still here!”

“I am,” Arthur says. “I’m staying tonight. Is that okay with you?”

Miles nods enthusiastically, rubbing his eyes with small fists. “Can you read me a story? Please?”

I glance at Arthur, who shrugs. “I’d love to,” he says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Just one story, though. It’s past your bedtime.”

I leave them to it, Arthur’s deep voice following me down the hall as he begins to read one of Miles’ favorite books. Something warm unfurls in my chest at the sound of the two of them together, and suddenly, the thought of moving back in together, into our old apartment and finally being a family, seems far more appealing than it did yesterday.

But this apartment comes with my residency. I need to finish it out, for my career and for Miles’ stability. We’ve moved around enough lately. He needs some consistency, even if it’s just for a few months.

And maybe… maybe this way is better for Arthur and me, too. If we’re going to try again, to see if we can rebuild what we once had, perhaps we should take it slow. Date each other. Fall in love again. It would be like a fresh start for our relationship, a chance to do things right this time.

Arthur finds me in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea, looking surprisingly domestic with his sleeves rolled up and his tie long discarded. “He’s asleep,” he says, nodding toward Miles’ room. “That dinosaur book is quite the story.”

“It’s his favorite. He makes me read it at least once a week.”

“I can see why. Very compelling plot.” Arthur moves to the sink, running water to fill a glass. The simple domesticity of the gesture makes my heart ache with longing for what we once had, but also makes my heart soar for we might have again.

“Thank you,” I say softly. “For wanting to stay tonight. And for reading to him.”

Arthur turns to face me, taking a sip of his water. “I should be thanking you. For letting me be a part of your lives, even after everything.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes my throat tighten. We’ve hurt each other so much, made so many mistakes. But standing here in my kitchen, with our son sleeping peacefully down the hall, I can almost believe we might find our way back to each other.

“I’m going to make up the couch for you,” I say, setting down my mug.

Arthur nods. “I appreciate it.”

I gather sheets, a pillow, and a blanket from the linen closet, then work together with Arthur to make up the sofa. It’s slightly too short for his tall frame, but he doesn’t complain. We say goodnight and I quickly make my way to my room before I can make the rash decision to invite him to come with me.

In my bedroom, I change into pajamas and slide under the covers, my body exhausted but my mind still racing. The events of the day play through my head like a movie reel. It’s been one of the longest, most emotionally draining days of my life, but strangely fulfilling in some very unexpected ways.

Eventually, I drift into a fitful sleep.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when a noise pulls me from my dreams—a soft clatter from the main part of the apartment. Blinking in the darkness, I try to orient myself. Another noise, this time the distinct sound of cupboards opening and closing.

Someone’s in the kitchen.

My heart rate spikes as I jolt upright.

What if someone followed me home? People know my identity now—maybe Emi fell asleep on duty and someone snuck in.

Moving as quietly as possible, I slip out of bed and grab the baseball bat I keep in my closet—a habit from my years living alone with Miles. Better safe than sorry.

With my heart pounding, I creep down the hallway, bat raised and ready. The sounds from the kitchen continue—drawers sliding open, something being set on the counter.

I round the corner and yelp as a tall figure nearly slams into me.

Without thinking, operating purely on instinct, I swing the bat.