"And then what?" Aria turned to look at him.
Damien met her gaze directly. "And then we decide together how to handle it. Not me making decisions for you, Aria. Together."
The words hit her somewhere soft and vulnerable. He'd understood immediately what she needed....not to be protected from this, but to be included in whatever came next. Not handled, not shielded, but trusted with her own situation.
She turned back to her mother, who was sitting again, wiping her face with a handkerchief, trying to compose herself.
"You should have told me sooner," Aria said gently. "When the first photograph arrived. You shouldn't have carried this alone."
"I know." Mei looked up at her with eyes that were still wet but steadier now. "I kept thinking I could manage it. That I could protect you the way I always have."
"Mama, I'm twenty-four years old."
