His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

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"Why?" I asked, unable to mask the confusion in my voice. "Aren't you swamped with work? Why are you offering to take us home?"

Carlos didn't even blink. "If Nathan sees you with a boy who looks exactly like his dead son, he's going to come after you."

My heart skipped a beat. Nathan. Of course. Nathan had already been suspicious back at the park, and now that Carlos had put it into words, I realized the danger I could be in. Cyrus did look so much like Oliver, Nathan's lost child. It wasn't something I could ignore anymore. Nathan wasn't someone to be taken lightly. I nodded silently, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Carlos was right. As much as I disliked his bluntness, he always had a way of cutting through the noise and seeing things for what they were.

We made our way back to my house, the ride quiet and tense. I could feel the

anticipation building in the air, an uneasy feeling that something was waiting for

us. And sure enough, when we pulled up to my house, there was Nathan, standing outside with his beta. His face was red with fury, his eyes wild and focused on me.

He stormed toward the car before I could even get out, his voice booming with anger. "Doris," he shouted, his words sharp and accusatory. "Are you carrying my baby?"

The question hung in the air like a bomb waiting to go off. Lfelt my stomach twist in knots as Nathan glared at me, his eyes darting from me to Cyrus.

Without thinking, without even a second of hesitation, I stormed up to Nathan and slapped him across the face. The sharp sound echoed through the stillness of the street, and for a moment, I was sure everyone around us had frozen in shock. My hand stung from the force, but the look on Nathan's face-wide-eyed and 18:08

His Knees. His Pleas. But Our Son's in Peace Chapter 50

stunned-was worth every bit of the pain.

"How dare you?" I snapped, my voice trembling with cold fury. "Just now, Sienna came after Cyrus, my son, trying to hurt him, and where were you? You didn't do a thing. You didn't step in. You didn't care. And now-now you show up, asking about your son? This is my son!"

I could feel the words pouring out of me, a flood of anger and frustration that had been building for years. Everything I'd gone through, the years of silence, the abandonment, the moments where I had stood alone-all of it came rushing back in that moment, and I couldn't stop myself.

"It doesn't matter who his father is! You've never cared before, so why start now? All you need to know is that this child has nothing to do with you, Nathan. He's my son. You have no claim over him!"

Nathan stood there, his mouth slightly open, his face pale from the shock of what I had just said-and done. For a long moment, he didn't move, didn't speak. And then, slowly, his knees buckled, and he sank to the ground in front of me. The sight of him kneeling there, looking up at me with desperate, pleading eyes, filled me with a strange mixture of disbelief and anger. Was this the same man? "Please," Nathan begged, his voice hoarse. "Doris, just let me see him. I- I didn't know. I didn't understand. But please, let me see Cyrus."

I stared down at him, my anger turning to something colder, something more resolute. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The man who had walked away from me, the man who had left me in the dust, was now on his knees, begging me for a place in Cyrus's life? It was absurd. It was insulting. "You have a child with Sienna, don't you?" I said sharply, iny voice cutting through the silence. "What are you doing here, acting like you care, when you already have a child of your own? Go home, Nathan. Go see your child. Cyrus has nothing to do with you!" His face crumpled, his hands shaking as he reached out toward me, but I took a Chapter 50

step back, refusing to give in. This wasn't his moment. This wasn't his place. He had made his choices long ago, and I had made mine. There was no turning back

now.

I turned away from him, feeling the weight of the situation start to lift as I moved toward the car where Carlos waited. My steps felt heavy, but with each one, the distance between me and Nathan grew. I was done with him, and he needed to understand that. As I reached the car, I glanced back at Carlos, who had been watching the entire scene unfold. He hadn't intervened, hadn't said a word, but there was something in his expression-something subtle-that told me he had been quietly pleased with how everything had played out. There was a certain satisfaction in his eyes, even if he didn't show it outright.

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