Page 28 of The One Who Changed Everything

I hesitated, then did. "Before we talk about Sophia, I need to know what you're expecting from this."

His jaw tightened. "I don’t know yet."

That answer wasn’t good enough. "You don’t get to just drop into her life and figure it out as you go, Evan. You weren’t there for her, and—”

"You think I don’t know that?" His voice was quiet but firm. "You think I don’t hate that? I searched for you, Sam. I tried. And now that I know she exists, I’m not just walking away."

I folded my arms. "So what does that mean? Do you want weekends? Holidays? Full custody?" My heart dropped as I voiced all the possibilities I’d been rolling over in my head.

His eyes flashed. "I just want a chance. I want to know my daughter."

The words sent a sharp pang through my chest. Not because they were wrong, but because they were right. Because shewashis daughter, and no matter how much I had tried to protect her, I couldn't change that fact.

But giving him a chance meant risking everything. And I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.

A heavy silence stretched between us, thick with tension. Not just the tension of an argument, but something older, something deeper.

I hated how familiar he still felt. How the rough edge of his voice sent a shiver through me, how I could still pick out the flecks of gold in his eyes beneath the dim café lights. I hated that, after all these years, part of me still remembered the way his touch had felt.

I crossed my arms tighter, like that would somehow protect me from the pull of the past. “This isn’t just about you, Evan.”

His jaw flexed. “Iknowthat.”

The intensity in his voice sent a jolt through me. I wasn’t sure if it was frustration or something else entirely, something dangerously close to the fire that had burned between us once before.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt charged, humming with something I wasn’t ready to name.

I looked away, breaking the spell. “You don’t know anything about her,” I said, my voice softer now, though no less firm.

“That’s why I’m here.”

His voice was low, steady. Almost gentle. And I also hated that it made my pulse stutter.

I exhaled sharply. “She’s smart. Stubborn. She loves books more than anything, and she hates when people talk down to her just because she’s a kid.” A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips before I could stop it. “She’s got this way of looking at the world, like she’s trying to figure out its secrets. Her curiosity is exhausting sometimes,” I admitted.

Evan was staring at me, something unreadable in his expression. I realized, too late, how intimately I’d spoken of Sophia—like she wasours.

Like we were stillsomething.

Heat crept up my neck, and I quickly added, “She’s had a good life, Evan. A stable life.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’m not here to take that away from her.”

Something in my chest ached at the sincerity in his voice. The familiarity of it. This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to make me remember.We’ll build a life together. Can’t you see it?

I forced myself to sit up straighter, to put distance between us where there was none. “Then we take this slow.”

Evan inhaled, as if steadying himself, before nodding. But then, as if sensing the shift between us, he leaned back, breaking whatever had just passed between us.

“I can do slow,” he agreed, his voice suddenly cooler. “But I won’t let you shut me out again.”

And just like that, the wall was back up.

He was shutting it down. The chemistry, the connection—whatever had just sparked between us—he was burying it beneath layers of restraint.

And maybe that should have been a relief.

So why did it feel like a loss?

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