CHAPTER 45

The morning started like any other, with Ember waking me up before the sun had fully risen. Her soft cries pulled me from my restless sleep, and I stumbled into her nursery to find her squirming in her crib. After a quick diaper change and feeding, I sat with her in the rocking chair, humming softly to her as I tried to shake off the remnants of a dream I couldn't quite remember.

By the time the sun streamed through the windows, I had managed to get myself ready for the day. Ember was in her playpen, babbling happily to herself as I cleaned up the kitchen. The faint knock on the door startled me, but I already knew who it was. Alexander had been coming by regularly now, showing up like clockwork. A part of me was annoyed by his persistence, but another part—one I didn't want to acknowledge—felt comforted by it.

When I opened the door, there he was, holding two cups of coffee. "Morning," he said, offering me one. "Thought you could use this."

I hesitated for a moment before taking the cup. "Thanks," I said, stepping aside to let him in.

He looked around the apartment, his eyes landing on Ember, who squealed in delight when she saw him. It was still strange to see him here, to have him interacting with my daughter like he belonged in her life. But he was trying, and that had to count for something.

"I was thinking," Alexander said, setting his coffee down on the counter, "maybe you should take some time for yourself today. Go out, get some fresh air. I can stay here with Ember."

I froze, my hand tightening around my coffee cup. "What?"

"You deserve a break, Isabella," he said gently. "You're always here, taking care of her, running yourself ragged. Let me help. Let me stay with her for a few hours."

I shook my head, my heart pounding. "No. Absolutely not. I can't—she's my daughter, Alexander. I can't just leave her alone with you."

He flinched, hurt flashing across his face, but he quickly masked it. "I understand why you feel that way," he said softly. "But I'm not the man I used to be. I'm not going to hurt her, Isabella. I promise you that."

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But trust didn't come easily, not after everything that had happened. "It's not that simple," I said. "You can't just waltz in here and expect me to hand her over to you."

"I'm not asking you to hand her over," he said, his voice steady. "I'm asking you to trust me, even if it's just a little. You need a break, Isabella. And I need to prove to you that I can be a good father."

I hesitated, torn between my instincts and the exhaustion that had been weighing me down for weeks. Ember gurgled from her playpen, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. I looked at her, then back at Alexander. His eyes were earnest, pleading.

"I don't know," I said quietly. "What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen," he said. "I'll take care of her like she's the most precious thing in the world. Because she is."

It took a long time for me to decide. I paced the kitchen, biting my lip and stealing glances at Ember. Finally, I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Fine," I said reluctantly. "But only for a few hours. And if anything happens—"

"Nothing will happen," he promised. "Thank you, Isabella. You won't regret this."

---

I called Sarah as soon as I left the apartment, needing someone to distract me from the anxiety twisting in my stomach. She agreed to meet me at our favorite coffee shop, and I arrived to find her waiting at a table, a worried expression on her face.

"Hey," she said as I sat down. "What's going on? You sounded stressed on the phone."

I hesitated, fidgeting with the strap of my purse. "I... I left Ember with Alexander," I admitted.

Sarah's eyes widened, and she leaned forward, her voice low but sharp. "You did what?"

"He's been trying," I said quickly, trying to justify my decision. "He's been coming around, helping with her. He wanted me to take a break, and I—I needed it, Sarah. I needed some time to breathe."

"Isabella," she said, her tone incredulous, "are you out of your mind? This is Alexander we're talking about. The same Alexander who lied to you, who tried to convince you to get rid of her. And now you're just trusting him with your child?"

"He's changed," I said, though the words felt hollow even to me. "He's trying to be better."

"Trying isn't enough," she snapped. "What if he screws up? What if he hurts her, Isabella? You can't just forget everything he's done because he's suddenly decided he wants to play daddy."

"I haven't forgotten," I said, my voice rising. "But he's her father, Sarah. And I can't keep him out of her life forever. She deserves to know him, no matter how much I might hate him for what he's done."

Sarah sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I just hope you don't regret this," she said quietly. "I hope he doesn't disappoint you again."

"I hope so too," I said, though I wasn't sure if I believed it.

---

When I returned home a few hours later, my anxiety was through the roof. I had spent the entire time with Sarah checking my phone, expecting the worst. But there were no missed calls, no frantic messages. Just silence.

When I walked through the door, I found Alexander in the living room with Ember. He was sitting on the floor, making silly faces at her while she giggled uncontrollably. The sight was so unexpected, so normal, that it stopped me in my tracks.

"Hey," he said, looking up as I walked in. "How was your day?"

"It was fine," I said, my voice cautious. "How was she?"

"She was perfect," he said, smiling down at Ember. "We had a great time, didn't we, sweetheart?"

Ember cooed in response, reaching for him with her tiny hands. My heart clenched at the sight, a mixture of emotions swirling inside me. Happiness, jealousy, fear. I didn't know what to feel anymore.

"Thank you," I said softly. "For taking care of her."

"You don't have to thank me," he said, standing up. "She's my daughter, Isabella. I should be here for her. And for you."

I didn't respond, too overwhelmed by everything that had happened. But as I watched him pack up his things and say goodbye, I realized something.

Maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for us. But it would take time. A lot of time.