“Nothing more.” The words felt like accepting a death sentence. “After everything, we just pretend none of it mattered?”
“It mattered while it was necessary. Now, circumstances have changed.”
“And if I want more? If I want the family we built together?”
“Then you’re living in the past.” His voice softened slightly, but the words remained brutal. “I can give you children, Iris. Real children.Ourchildren. I’ll support them, help raise them, and provide everything they need.”
The offer should have been everything she’d dreamed of. But it felt hollow and mechanical. Owen was offering her a business arrangement dressed up as generosity.
“You’re talking about producing heirs, not building a family.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Love.” The word came out broken. “The difference is love.”
“Love destroyed my parents. Love turns people into weapons against each other. I won’t risk that.”
“So, you’d rather risk nothing at all?”
“Yes.”
The simple admission hung between them and created a chasm.
Iris stared at the man she’d thought she knew and realized how little she’d actually understood. He would rather live in careful isolation than risk the possibility of pain.
“I loved her because you were there, too,” she said quietly. “That’s what made it real. Not just caring for a baby but doing it together. Building something together. Becoming something more than we were apart.”
“Iris…”
“But you don’t want that. You never did. You want the appearance of family without the reality. The benefits without the vulnerability.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” she insisted. “The moment things become difficult, the moment you have to choose between comfort and love, you choose comfort every time.”
She moved toward the door, needing distance before she said something that she couldn’t take back. At the threshold, she paused.
“I won’t help you fake her death. I won’t pretend she never existed.”
“Where are you going?”
“To spend time with my daughter. While I still can.”
She left him standing in the morning room surrounded by the remnants of their shattered peace.
In the nursery, Iris found Evie in her cradle, babbling contentedly at a sunbeam streaming through the window. The sight of her perfect face, so trusting and innocent, made the tears fall anew.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered while lifting Evie into her arms. “What are we going to do?”
Evie responded by grabbing at her hair and gurgling with delight at the game. Such simple joy, such uncomplicated affection. How could Owen dismiss this as meaningless? How could he look at this precious child and see only obligation?
The sound of footsteps in the hallway made her tense, but they passed by without stopping.
Owen, retreating to his study, no doubt. Back to his ledgers and contracts and the safe world of numbers that couldn’t hurt him.
She should have known this was too good to last. Iris should have realized that a man who’d spent his life building walls wouldn’t tear them down for anyone, not even the family he’d claimed to cherish. But knowing and accepting were different things entirely.
As she rocked Evie in the chair Owen had commissioned for her comfort, Iris tried to imagine a future without this beautiful child.
