The question hung in the air.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them spoke.
"How old is your daughter?"
Lillian felt her heart stop.
Not literally.
But close enough.
Because she knew.
The moment he asked that question, she knew.
Sebastian was connecting the pieces.
The timeline.
The resignation.
The little girl.
Everything.
For several seconds she simply stared at him.
Unable to speak.
Unable to think.
And unfortunately, Sebastian noticed.
Of course he did.
His blue eyes remained fixed on her.
Watching.
Waiting.
The longer the silence stretched, the worse it became.
Finally Lillian found her voice.
"Why?"
The word came out weaker than she'd intended.
Sebastian's expression didn't change.
"Why?"
he repeated.
"Yes."
Another silence.
Then:
"Why does it matter?"
The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Because it sounded exactly like what it was.
An attempt to avoid answering.
And Sebastian knew it.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"That wasn't what I asked."
"Lillian."
His voice remained calm.
Too calm.
"How old is she?"
Lillian looked away.
The room suddenly felt too small.
Too warm.
Too difficult to breathe in.
For three years she'd known this moment might come.
She just hadn't expected it tonight.
Not like this.
Not with Sebastian sitting on her couch after she'd found him drunk and bleeding outside a bar.
Not with Ellie asleep only a few rooms away.
Not with her heart threatening to break apart inside her chest.
"Just answer me."
The words weren't angry.
If anything, they sounded tired.
Almost afraid.
As though part of him didn't want to hear the answer.
Lillian swallowed.
Then quietly said:
"Three."
The room went silent.
Completely silent.
Sebastian didn't react immediately.
At least not outwardly.
He simply sat there.
Staring at her.
Three.
The number echoed inside his head.
Three.
Again.
Always three.
Three years since she'd left.
Three years since she'd resigned.
Three years since she'd disappeared from his life.
And now—
A three-year-old daughter.
His stomach twisted.
Suddenly memories began resurfacing.
Things he'd ignored.
Things he'd never questioned.
Things he'd buried beneath grief and alcohol and work.
Lillian getting sick at the office.
The exhaustion.
The days Chloe constantly hovered around her.
The resignation.
Personal reasons.
Personal reasons.
Personal reasons.
The phrase repeated itself.
And for the first time, it sounded different.
Not vague.
Obvious.
His pulse quickened.
No.
No.
Yet the possibility refused to disappear.
Because the more he thought about it—
The more sense it made.
Lillian stood frozen.
Watching him.
Watching realization slowly spread across his face.
And it terrified her.
Because she knew exactly what he was thinking.
The worst part?
He wasn't wrong.
Sebastian lowered his gaze.
His hands were trembling slightly.
Whether from exhaustion, alcohol, or shock, he wasn't sure.
Perhaps all three.
"When?"
The question was so quiet she almost didn't hear it.
"What?"
His eyes lifted.
"When did you find out?"
Lillian felt sick.
Because that wasn't the question of someone making conversation.
That wasn't the question of someone guessing.
That was the question of someone who was already reaching a conclusion.
A conclusion she'd spent three years avoiding.
She sat down slowly in the armchair opposite him.
Her legs suddenly felt weak.
"I..."
The words wouldn't come.
Sebastian waited.
Patiently.
Painfully.
Finally she whispered:
"A few weeks after my birthday."
The answer landed like a punch.
Because Sebastian remembered that birthday.
Perfectly.
He remembered every second of it.
The flowers.
The dinner.
The way she'd smiled.
The way he'd believed everything was fine.
And then the next day—
She left.
A humorless laugh escaped him.
The sound made Lillian flinch.
"A few weeks."
His voice sounded distant now.
As though he were speaking to himself.
Not her.
"A few weeks."
Three years.
Three years.
Three years.
The number refused to leave him alone.
His chest felt tight.
Painfully tight.
For a moment he looked toward the hallway.
Toward the room where the little girl slept.
The little girl who had looked at him without fear.
The little girl who had offered him concern.
The little girl who—
His thoughts stopped.
Because another realization arrived.
A far more painful one.
If he was right...
Then he'd missed everything.
Everything.
Her first birthday.
Her first word.
Her first step.
Every scraped knee.
Every bedtime story.
Every Christmas.
Three entire years.
Gone.
His throat tightened.
And suddenly he couldn't decide which possibility was worse.
That he was wrong.
Or that he was right.
Across from him, Lillian could feel tears forming.
Because she knew.
She knew exactly what was happening.
The walls she'd spent years building were finally collapsing.
And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Sebastian looked at her.
Really looked at her.
The woman he'd loved.
The woman who'd left.
The woman who'd been carrying this secret.
For three years.
His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke again.
"Lillian."
She closed her eyes.
Because she already knew what was coming.
And she wasn't ready.
She would never be ready.
A long silence passed.
Then Sebastian asked the question.
The question that neither of them had wanted spoken aloud.
"Who is her father?"
The tears escaped before she could stop them.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
And the moment Sebastian saw them—
His heart sank.
Because suddenly he wasn't waiting for an answer anymore.
He already knew.