“You bought car seats,” she said flatly.
“Six months ago.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been looking for you for two years.”
Nora’s head snapped toward him. “What?”
“I hired investigators. I checked every social service agency. Every shelter. Nothing.”
“You… looked for me?”
“When I realized what I’d done. What I’d said. What I’d become.” Adrian’s voice dropped. “I wanted to apologize. To help. But you were gone.”
Nora’s eyes filled again. “I used my middle name. Moved to Jersey. Changed everything.”
“I figured.”
They drove in silence. At the hospital, a pediatrician examined all three babies while Nora answered questions with quiet exhaustion.
“They’re undernourished,” the doctor said gently. “But not dangerously. They need better formula. Regular meals. Consistent shelter.”
Nora nodded, shame coloring her cheeks.
Adrian stepped forward. “Whatever they need, bill me directly.”
The doctor glanced between them. “And you are?”
“Their father,” Adrian said.
Nora didn’t contradict him.
At the hotel—a suite Adrian upgraded on the spot—Margaret helped Nora feed and bathe the babies while Adrian ordered food. Enough for a week.
When the babies were finally asleep, Nora collapsed on the couch.
“I haven’t slept in a bed in three weeks,” she said distantly.
Margaret sat beside her. “Why didn’t you go to a shelter?”
“I tried. They were full. And…” Nora’s voice dropped. “They wanted to separate us. Put the babies in foster care temporarily. I couldn’t.”
Adrian felt sick. “You’ve been on the street for three weeks?”
“Parks. Libraries. Coffee shops. Wherever they’d let us stay a few hours.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Don’t,” Nora said sharply. “Don’t act horrified now. This is what happens when men like you erase women like me.”
The words hit like a slap.
Adrian sat across from her. “You’re right. I erased you. I prioritized my career, my image, my comfort. I told myself you were being dramatic because admitting you might be pregnant meant my life would get complicated.”
“It did get complicated,” Nora said bitterly. “Just not for you.”
“Not then. But it should have.” He leaned forward. “I want to set up an account for you. Backdated child support. Medical expenses. Housing. Everything.”
“Why now?”
“Because it’s right. Because they’re mine. Because I failed you.”
Nora studied him for a long moment. “If I take your money, you’re going to want access.”
“Yes.”
“Custody?”