Chapter 17
Three years after the engagement party, I stood beside the same swimming pool watching Theo throw bread to absolutely nothing.
He was three.
The bread sank.
He found this hilarious.
Anwen sat beneath an umbrella wearing sunglasses and holding lemonade.
No maid uniform.
No apron.
No pay envelope.
She had started managing private events for several estates the previous year.
Her choice.
Her business.
Not mine.
Our relationship?
Still ours.
Closer than before.
Not defined for anyone else.
Theo knew me as Dad now.
That happened naturally somewhere between scraped knees, midnight fevers, and an unfortunate incident involving permanent marker on my office wall.
My signet ring remained “ball” when he wanted to annoy me.
Guests gathered for my mother’s birthday dinner.
Not engagement.
No fiancée beside me.
No urgency to replace the position.
Theo ran toward Anwen.
“Mom, hungry.”
She handed him a roll.
Immediately.
The simplicity stopped me.
Three years earlier, Felice had thrown Anwen’s wages into this pool and told her our son’s dinner depended on whether she could retrieve them.
At the time, I thought the mystery was paternity.
Whose child is that?
The answer turned out to be the easiest part.
Mine.
The harder question was who believed that fact gave them ownership over everyone around it.
Felice believed marriage would let her control when I learned.
Control whether Anwen stayed.
Control where Theo lived.
Control who received gratitude.
Anwen had feared I might do the same thing once I knew.
That fear changed me more than the betrayal did.
Theo held half his bread toward me.
“Want?”
I took it.
“Thank you.”
Then he looked at the pool.
A single dollar bill from someone’s pocket floated near the far edge.
He pointed.
“Money.”
“Yes.”
“Get?”
“No.”
He shrugged.
Then ate his bread.
No hunger attached.
No mother calculating rent behind her eyes.
No woman standing above the water deciding whether food had been earned.
Just a child at a party with too much bread.
Anwen looked at me.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
I almost smiled.
Then Theo dropped the rest of his roll into the pool.
Anwen groaned.
I laughed.
Money drifted.
Bread sank.
May you like
My son stayed exactly where he belonged—
with both parents close enough that nobody could ever turn love into ransom again.
