I stared off at the dark window without really seeing it. “Not telling him now eases a lot of problems—except, one of the biggest issues between us has been about the importance of honesty and rebuilding trust. I’m especially always going off on that. What kind of hypocrite would I be to push for that and then keep something like this from him?”

Evan was silent for a few moments. “So ... you’re getting back together.”

I looked up at him, only then realizing what my words meant. Evan still wore that everything-is-okay look, but I caught a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes. There’d been no promises between us, but he’d still had his hopes pinned on me when I returned.

“Evan, I—”

He held up his hand and gave me a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s what you want, and I’m happy for you. It has no effect on what I do for these kids.”

I still wanted to apologize but instead held back and respected his wishes. Going on and on about how sorry I was, making excuses ... well, that wouldn’t make him feel better. It would only make me feel better. He would have to process this in his own time.

“How long would you keep them from him?” Evan asked, returning to my dilemma.

“I don’t know. Years. Maybe until their teens.” I groaned. “God, that sounds awful just saying that. What kind of person even considers something like this?”

“Someone who loves their children,” he said bluntly.

“Would he forgive me when he finds out?” I asked bleakly. “Would you? You wouldn’t be happy to find out your girlfriend had been hiding something like this for years.”

“No,” Evan agreed. “I’d be pretty upset. But I’d also be overjoyed to see my children healthy, safe, and well.”

I stood up and paced toward the cribs. “Would that be enough? Would it make up for the lie?”

He thought about it. “I don’t know.”

I looked between the two sleeping forms, and that’s when the tears started. I wasn’t a crier. With Pagiel’s death and even in some of the more hormonal moments of pregnancy, my tears had been pretty minimal. Now, they were an onslaught as all the hurt I’d been holding within me for so long burst out. I cried for Dorian, for the secret I would have to keep from him. I cried for Isaac and Ivy, who would spend a good part of their life never knowing the truth about their parents. And I cried for myself, because I was going to hurt every day I was apart from my children.

Evan put his arms around me and let me cry into his chest. He didn’t try to tell me everything would be okay, and I was grateful for that.

“I don’t want to leave them,” I sobbed.