"We don't have to do this if you aren't ready. Not today."

"She's her aunt," Ivy answers. "And I wouldn't deny her this meeting, but if she’s rude—"

"She won't be," I assure her. "I will make certain of that."

She nods, and we walk toward Mercedes, who seems to be frozen in place. Her face is a mixture of emotions as she watches the three of us together. There is sadness in her eyes, but I think it is for what she feels she has lost.

"Ivy." She forces a smile as she nods at my wife. "I'm... happy to see you are recovering well."

Ivy arches a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Mercedes dips her head, a moment of softness I rarely see in her. “I know I can be a spoiled, jealous bitch sometimes, okay? I can admit, I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, and for that, I am sorry. But you obviously make my brother very happy, and I see that you’re here to stay, so I would like to try to get to know you. If you’ll let me.”

Ivy seems surprised by her admission, but I’m not. Mercedes swings on a pendulum from sweet and innocent to an angry little beast. She always has. And while I can no longer excuse her episodes, I do understand them. She lashes out because she’s hurting inside, and I can only hope that one day, she will not hurt anymore.

“I think that would be beneficial for all of us,” Ivy tells her, shifting Elena in her arms so Mercedes can see her. "This is your niece. Elena Frances De La Rosa."

"She's... beautiful." Mercedes brings a trembling hand to her lips, tears filling her eyes. "Can I... might I hold her for a minute?"

Ivy looks at me, and I squeeze her hip lightly. "That's up to you."

She considers it for a moment, and being the woman she is, she inevitably helps Mercedes take our daughter into her arms. We all watch her as she rocks Elena back and forth, quietly gushing over her beauty. Judge seems to stiffen at the sight before him, and I narrow my eyes at him, wondering at the meaning behind his discomfort. He's looking at Mercedes like the image of her with a child is a shock to his system. For a man who never intends to marry or have his own family, it leaves me to wonder why the idea should surprise him.

"One day, you will have your own," I tell my sister, but my eyes are on Judge.

"Maybe I'll have a whole brood of them," she remarks dryly. "Ten little monsters just like me."

As I suspected, this casual remark makes Judge so tense, he can't hide his irritation. I'm beginning to wonder if there really is something there.