Chapter 13
Amabel returned to work eventually.
Not as a maid.
She had never loved service.
She chose event logistics.
Turned out she was exceptional.
Six months later she was managing guest operations better than people twice her age.
Celestine heard.
Said nothing.
Good.
Julian spent some nights with me.
Some with Amabel.
Not because anyone ordered a perfect split.
Because we found routines.
I learned newborn nights.
Then crawling.
Then the terrifying phase where every object becomes edible.
I respected bodyguards less after watching three adults fail to stop one baby from reaching a lamp cord.
Amabel laughed at me constantly.
Our relationship became close.
Not romantic.
That surprised everyone.
Again, people want simple categories.
We did not give them one.
She was the mother of my son.
My friend.
Someone I had once slept with.
May you like
Someone whose trust I had to earn independently from paternity.
Complex enough.
