Lyra paced the living room, fury boiling under her skin. Zane stood near the kitchen, silent, watching her like she might explode — and she might.
"You didn't tell me she still had a key," Lyra snapped.
"I didn't know she'd use it," he replied. "She wasn't supposed to—"
"But she did," Lyra cut in. "And the way she talked to me? Like I'm just some fling you picked up on a whim."
Zane's jaw tightened. "She doesn't speak for me."
"She speaks because you let her think she still matters!" Lyra shouted, her voice cracking. "You said it was over. You said you wanted to be involved — with this baby, with me. But now I feel like a fool."
Zane stepped forward. "You're not a fool. You're scared. And I don't blame you."
Lyra blinked, taken aback by the softness in his voice.
"I should've changed the locks. I should've set boundaries with her months ago. But I didn't — and that's on me. Not you."
Tears welled up in Lyra's eyes. "I can't do this if I'm always going to be second place."
"You're not," Zane said, voice low but sure. "You never were."
She looked at him, exhausted, broken open.
"I want to believe that," she whispered. "But I don't know how."