“Please, Manila. Let me come in.”
Just that simple phrase, just my name on his lips, makes my insides melt. I’ve never been able to resist him. Not even now. Not even knowing what he did.
So I step back and open the door wider. Let him into my hovel of an apartment.
To his credit, he doesn’t make a face when I lead him into the bedroom. He takes a seat on the single chair across from the bed, a rocking chair where I cradle Lucie to sleep on fussy nights.
I perch on the bed, one hand resting protectively on each of my babies. “What do you want?” I say, and my voice comes out harsher than I meant it to, choked with sleep deprivation and grief.
“I want you to come to work,” he says simply.
I laugh. Sharp and bitter. “You don’t need me. You never did.”
He doesn’t respond. Just watches me, intense and quiet.
“You saw an opportunity in me,” I guess. “Someone you could take advantage of. You knew I was in a bad position, you knew I had nobody else, so if you helped me, I’d be dependent on you. You could hide me and shame me into silence when your real woman came calling, if she ever found out.”
Now, he reacts. His eyebrows hit his forehead. “What are you talking about?”
I look at my lap. I can’t meet his eyes for this. Can’t watch the lies form in his eyes. “I found the folder,” I say as I rub Luca’s stomach gently. Slow, concentric circles. Focus on him, on my baby. Not on this man who gutted me. “The one from A New Chance. For you and…” I shake my head. I can’t say her name. Can’t make this real.
Before I even finish, Cassius is beside me on the bed, his hand on my shoulder. “Manila.” He’s laughing. Actually laughing.
How could he, at a time like this?
But he cups my face in his hand and turns me to face him, and I see genuine warmth and amusement in his eyes. “You’re wrong, Manila. It’s not what you think.”
I pull away from him, tears springing to my eyes again. I can’t watch him laugh at me. Mock me for trusting him. “If I’m wrong, then explain it to me. Tell me why you lied, why you pretended to care about me, about the twins. Why did you lie and pretend you wanted more babies—you already have children with her, don’t you? You have a family with a woman I’ve never even heard of.”
“Yes you have,” he whispers.
My eyes widen. Is he actually admitting it? Unable to help myself, I look back at him.
There’s a quiet, sincere seriousness in his gaze, one I can’t turn away from. “You’ve met her. You know who the mother of my children is.”
“I never met the woman in that photo,” I snap. But he’s already shaking his head, half laughing, yet with a spark in his eye. Something bright that catches the light as he shakes his head no.
“It’s you, Manila.”
I stare at him blankly. I don’t understand.
He grabs my shoulders, his expression turning darker. Wild. “You are the mother of my children. The twins… They’re mine.”
My lips part, slowly. Moving without permission from my brain.
But…
“That’s impossible,” I whisper.
Cassius closes his eyes, grimacing. His hands hold onto my shoulders, tighten to the point where his grip is almost painful. But I welcome it. That little spike of pain is the only thing tethering me to reality right now. The rest of the world is fuzzy with confusion.
“My ex… Claire, the woman in that photo. She was not a good woman. She was an alcoholic, a user, an abuser. I saw that in her, but I was so desperate for a family, I thought we could make it work anyway. I thought she would change, if we had kids together. So we went to the clinic. That’s the file you found. It’s from years ago, when we were first tested. They told me it was unlikely I’d be able to conceive, but we tried some experimental procedures. I gave them samples, and they finally got some viable samples from me, sperm that would work…”
He opens his eyes to meet mine again, real sorrow in them. “Before they finished the tests, I caught her cheating on me. With my best friend.”
“Cassius…” I breathe, reaching to touch his cheek gently. “I’m so sorry…”
“It’s okay.” He wraps his hand around my wrist. “It was meant to happen, don’t you see? I’m glad she did, glad I never gave that one precious sample to her. There was a mistake… The clinic was supposed to save the sample for me, but they told me they lost it.
“I was distraught. They said they probably couldn’t get any more viable samples from me, that I’d likely never conceive. My one chance at children, and they ruined it for me. But then, a couple of months ago, the clinic contacted me. There’d been a mistake. A mix-up. They didn’t lose my sample—they used it.”