As Alexander's offer to come upstairs hung in the air between us, I felt panic rise in my chest. My heart thundered against my ribs as I quickly shook my head.
"That's not necessary," I said, perhaps too hastily.
One look at Aria and he would know. He would see his own eyes staring back at him. The truth I'd kept hidden for seven long years would unravel in an instant, and I wasn't ready. Not yet. Not like this.
His jaw tightened, that now-familiar muscle along his cheek flexing with tension. "Right," he said stiffly, his voice cooling several degrees. "Your daughter's waiting."
The way he said "daughter" - like it was a revelation he was still processing - made something twist painfully in my chest. I wanted to explain, to tell him everything.
But the words wouldn't come.
