"I'm sorry, Bianca," he said, his voice low and full of regret. "I shouldn't have put you in this position."
For one brief second, his warmth felt familiar. Almost painful.
Then he continued.
"It's just that Adriana has a child. I brought her here, so I felt responsible for making sure she got home safely."
The warmth vanished.
So even his apology had to include her. Even when he came back to me, he still had to explain why she mattered more.
Then his tone shifted slightly.
"Why didn't you just wait at my Thorne's house?" he asked. "It's raining so hard. You're carrying our child. What if something happened?"
There it was again. The complaint hidden beneath concern.
I turned in his arms and looked at him.
"Are you the only person who can take her home?"
Mira froze.
"What?"
"You and Vincent both drove here tonight," I said calmly. "Are you really the only one who can see Adriana home?"
His expression changed. First confusion. Then embarrassment. Then annoyance. His lips pressed together, and for once, he seemed unable to find the right excuse.
"I…"
I didn't let him finish.
"You wanted to take her home."
The words were simple. Quiet. But they landed heavily between us, heavier than the rain hammering the stone beneath our feet.
A shadow crossed Mira's face. He sighed, sounding tired, as if I had forced him into another unreasonable conversation.
"Bianca, are you jealous again?"
Again. That word almost made me laugh.
"I only see Adriana as a sister," he said. "You know that."
I said nothing.
He continued, his voice softening into the familiar tone he always used when trying to make me feel guilty.
"She's alone. Her husband is dead. She has a child to raise by herself. Life isn't easy for her. We grew up together in this world. I'm just helping her."
Helping her. He always made it sound so noble. As if every time he abandoned me, it was an act of kindness. As if my pain was proof of my selfishness.
I pushed him away.
His body warmth disappeared, leaving only the cold rain against my skin.
"Helping her so much that you left the Family's waterfront operations and started a new crew with her?"
Mira's face changed. For a second, he looked genuinely caught off guard. His hand drifted to his wrist, smoothing the strap of his watch flat against the skin, the way he always did when he was about to make a betrayal sound reasonable.
But he recovered quickly.
"You misunderstood," he said. "The operation isn't just me and Adriana. It's a joint effort. All of us saw an opportunity, and we're trying to build something together."
He adjusted the watch again, forcing himself back into that composed, affectionate version of a husband. The version that used to fool me.
"Don't overthink it," he said gently. "You're going to be a Thorne soon. Why are you still so jealous?"
Then he smiled faintly, as if he were saying something reasonable.
"You wouldn't want to raise a jealous child, would you?"
My fingers curled at my sides. My wedding band pressed into my palm, the stone biting hard against the flesh.
Our child is gone.
The words rose to my throat. For one second, I almost told him. I almost wanted to see his face collapse, wanted him to know that while he was busy playing savior to Adriana and father to her child, he had already lost his own.
But before I could speak, his phone rang.
The moment he answered, a small, cheerful voice came through the speaker.
"Dad, why don't you come see me? I miss you!"
Dad.
The word cut through the rain sharper than thunder.
Panic flashed across Mira's eyes. He immediately covered the receiver with his hand and turned away from me, walking quickly toward the house as if distance could hide what I had already heard.
A few minutes later, he came out changed into fresh clothes. Ready to leave. Again.
"I'm sorry, Bianca," he said, guilt written all over his face. "Adriana said Nico is sick and wants to see me."
I looked at him. The rain was still dripping from my hair. My ankle still ached. My body was still weak. And he was leaving. Again.
