Emma nodded.
The boys didn’t understand why this stranger looked at them as if they had risen from the past. They didn’t know Blake had once been Emma’s husband. They didn’t know his last words to her had been cruel.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
Emma gave a humorless laugh. “You want to do this here?”
“Yes.”
When Blake reached for her arm, Ethan jumped in front of her. “Don’t touch my mom.”
Blake froze and immediately let go.
“We are not doing this in front of them,” Emma said.
“You disappeared,” Blake snapped.
“No,” she replied. “You erased me.”
For a moment, the old Blake seemed to flicker through—the man she had loved before pride and suspicion destroyed them. Then his mask returned.
“I want to talk.”
“I want to take my sons home.”
His eyes flashed. “Our sons.”
The air changed.
Oliver looked up. “Our?”
Blake realized his mistake too late.
“Mom,” Oliver asked carefully, “is he our dad?”
Emma knelt in front of them, wishing she could undo the moment.
“There are things we need to talk about,” she said softly. “But not here.”
“But is he?” Oliver insisted.
Emma touched his cheek. “Yes.”
Blake inhaled sharply.
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