“Thank you,” Isabella whispered, a brief flicker of gratitude in her weary eyes.

Liam stirred against her chest, his small fingers clutching her collar tightly. His wide, glossy eyes scanned the room, lips parting as if searching for words. Then, in a sleepy, tiny voice, he murmured, “Mommy…”

Her heart tightened. She gently brushed her fingers through his soft hair. “What is it, darling?”

Liam lifted a hand, pointing toward the window. Outside, the city glowed with vibrant life. Neon lights painted the night sky, casting colorful patterns across the walls. “Go out… play…” he mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep, his expression full of longing.

Isabella’s breath caught. For a moment, she couldn’t speak. How she wished she could take him outside, let him feel the cool night air, hear his laughter echo through the quiet streets. But… he had just undergone surgery.

Her hesitation was brief but noticeable. Lucas noticed immediately.

His voice was warm, reassuring. “Where do you want to go, little man?” He crouched down, meeting Liam’s gaze. “Once you’re feeling better, I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

Isabella blinked, surprised. She hadn’t expected that.

Liam’s face instantly brightened. He clapped his tiny hands excitedly. “Yay! Lucas will take me!”

He wriggled free from her arms and wrapped his small arms around Lucas’s leg.

Isabella watched them, her heart a tangled mix of gratitude, warmth, and something more complicated.

Comforted by the promise, Liam stopped fussing and finally drifted to sleep, his breathing soft and even.

Ten minutes passed.

The room fell silent, the only sound the steady rhythm of the child’s breathing.

Isabella gently adjusted Liam’s blanket before standing. She moved toward the window, drawn to the city lights beyond.

Lucas followed quietly, his gaze never leaving her. She looked fragile. Too thin. Too pale.

“Isabella.” His voice was soft, careful. “Let me take care of you. Both of you.”

She turned. Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything seemed to pause. Then, she shook her head. A slow, gentle refusal.

“Lucas… please don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “These past three years, I’ve already relied on you too much. I know you mean well, but…” She exhaled, the words heavy. “I’ve learned to take care of Liam on my own. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone else.” Her voice softened further, almost breaking. “Besides… between us…”

She didn’t finish, but Lucas understood everything left unsaid.

Too many gaps stood between them.

A dull ache spread through Lucas’s chest, sharp and persistent. He reached out instinctively, his fingers hovering near her cheek. But he hesitated—paused—before letting his hand drop.

A faint, bitter smile touched his lips. “Isabella,” he murmured, his voice raw. “You always carry everything alone. Have you ever considered… that you don’t have to?”

Isabella lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes—the quiet sincerity, the unspoken plea. A warmth stirred within her.

But she buried it just as quickly.