Maya marched in carrying a foil-covered casserole dish and enough fury for three people.
Her dark hair was damp from the rain, her cheeks flushed, her boots wet. She took one look at Ethan in my living room and stopped dead.
“Well,” she said, voice like a blade. “Look what the devil’s intern found time for.”
If I hadn’t been exhausted, I might have laughed.
Ethan straightened. “This is between me and Hannah.”
Maya set the dish on the table with a hard thud. “Then where were you for the last six months? Or did ‘between you and Hannah’ only start mattering once there was a baby involved?”
He shot me a look, as if expecting me to shut her down. I didn’t.
Maya stepped closer, lowering her voice because Leo was nursing, but making every word count.
“She went to appointments alone. She puked alone. She signed surgical forms alone. She came home from the hospital with stitches in her stomach and a preemie in her arms, and the first grand gesture you people make is to show up with a wedding invitation?”
“That wasn’t—”
“Don’t.” Maya held up a hand. “Don’t insult me by pretending this was classy. This was cruel.”
Ethan looked at me again. “I didn’t know.”
That was true. And somehow it made me angrier.
Because not knowing had been his choice long before it became his shock.
Maya saw the shift in my face and softened just enough to hand me a glass of water.
“Drink,” she said quietly. “You need it.”
Then she turned back to Ethan and said, “What do you want?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“A paternity test.”
The room went silent.
Leo made a soft swallowing sound against my chest. The kettle hissed faintly as it cooled. My whole body felt suddenly made of wire.
Maya’s eyebrows went up. “Of course.”
“If he’s mine—”
“He is yours,” I said flatly.
He looked at me, something almost pained moving behind his expression. “Then you should have no issue proving it.”
The cruel thing was, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
The smart thing was to agree.
The dangerous thing was to agree too fast.
So I said, “When the pediatrician says it’s safe. Not before.”
He stared. “Safe?”
“He’s premature. His immune system is weak. He is not getting dragged through a legal circus because you finally discovered consequences.”
Maya folded her arms. “And everything from this second on happens in writing.”
Ethan gave a humorless smile. “You’ve been advising her.”
“Somebody had to.”
He took out his phone. “Fine. I’ll have my lawyer contact—”