The sound of the rain against the window filled the silence between them. Lyra sat on the edge of Zane's expensive leather couch, staring into her untouched cup of tea. Everything felt surreal — the man who'd once been a stranger was now talking about raising a child with her.
"How long have you known?" Zane asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.
"A few weeks," she admitted, still not looking up. "I kept telling myself it wasn't real… or that I'd find a way to deal with it on my own."
"And now?"
Lyra finally lifted her gaze to his. "Now I'm scared. I don't know how to do this, Zane. I don't even know who you really are."
He walked over slowly, crouching down in front of her. "Then let's start there."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"I'm not perfect," he said. "I've got a past, I've made mistakes. But I don't run from what's mine. If this baby is part of me — part of us — I'll protect it. And I'll protect you too, if you'll let me."
Lyra blinked back tears. "Why do you care so much?"
Zane hesitated. Then softly, "Because I haven't stopped thinking about you since that night. And now… you're carrying a piece of me."