Chapter 62

Chapter 62
Chapter 62
SOPHIA

The casual way he claimed fatherhood, the absolute certainty in his voice, made my eyes sting with unshed tears.

"Thank you," I whispered, because I didn't know what else to say. How did you thank someone for giving you everything you'd ever wanted? For being the father your brother needed? For treating a contract marriage like it was real?

"Stop thanking me." But his voice was gentle, not irritated. "We're family. This is what family does."

We finished breakfast while Martha fluttered around making sure everything was perfect for Adam's arrival. The staff had been preparing all week—his room was set up with the new furniture I'd bought, the kitchen was stocked with his favorite foods, there were new toys and books scattered throughout the apartment.

It looked like a child actually lived here. Like this wasn't just a billionaire's bachelor pad but a real home for a real family.

The thought made my chest ache.

"Ready?" Lucas asked, standing and offering me his hand.

I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. "Ready."

Luke drove us to the hospital, and I spent the entire ride trying not to think about the pills I hadn't taken. Trying not to calculate exactly how fertile I might be right now. Trying not to acknowledge that a tiny, reckless part of me hoped I was already pregnant, that this decision had already been taken out of my hands.

That was wrong. I knew it was wrong. But I couldn't seem to stop hoping anyway.

"You're quiet," Lucas observed, his hand finding mine in the backseat. "Nervous?"

"A little." That was true, if not for the reasons he thought. "It's just... this is really happening. Adam's really coming home."

"He is. And it's going to be amazing." Lucas lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "You've waited so long for this, Sophia. You've fought so hard. You deserve this happiness."

Did I? I wasn't sure anymore. Wasn't sure I deserved any of this—the husband, the home, the second chance at life. I'd been on that bridge six weeks ago ready to end everything. Had been wearing my mother's burial dress and actively planning my own death.

And now I was here, in the back of a luxury car, on my way to bring my recovered brother home to a penthouse, married to a man who treated me like I mattered.

How had this become my life?

"What are you thinking about?" Lucas asked, clearly reading the complexity on my face.

"Just... how different everything is now. How much has changed in such a short time."

"Good changes though, right?"

"Yes. Good changes." I forced myself to smile. "The best changes."

We arrived at the hospital, and Dr. Gray met us outside Adam's room with a broad smile.

"The family's all here," he said warmly. "Adam's been ready since dawn. He's very excited."

"How is he really?" I asked, needing the medical truth beyond Adam's enthusiasm. "Long-term prognosis?"

Dr. Gray's expression turned serious. "Honestly? Better than I dared hope. His cognitive function is intact, motor skills are improving daily, and his emotional resilience is remarkable. He'll need continued physical therapy and regular check-ups, but I'm optimistic about a full recovery."

Relief flooded through me so intensely I had to grab Lucas's arm for support.

"Thank you," I managed. "Dr. Gray, thank you for everything. For not giving up on him when everyone else did."

"It was my privilege." He looked between Lucas and me. "And it's clear he's going to an excellent home. Not every child is lucky enough to have parents who love him as much as you two clearly love Adam."

Parents. The word hit different hearing it from someone else. Made it feel more real somehow.

"Can we see him?" Lucas asked.

"Of course. He's waiting for you."

We entered Adam's room to find him already dressed in the new clothes I'd brought yesterday, sitting on the edge of his bed and swinging his legs impatiently.

"Mama! Papa!" His face lit up like the sun. "Is it time? Can we go home now?"

"Yes, baby." I crossed to him and pulled him into a careful hug. "We can go home now."

"To my new room? With the trucks?"

"With the trucks," Lucas confirmed, ruffling Adam's hair affectionately. "Everything's ready for you."

Adam threw his arms around Lucas's waist, and I watched my husband—my contract husband, I reminded myself—hug my brother back with genuine affection. Watched him lift Adam easily, settling him on his hip like he'd been doing it for years instead of days.

"Ready to go, buddy?" Lucas asked.

"So ready! Mama, did you remember my elephant?"

"Of course." I held up his stuffed elephant—the one that had been with him through the entire hospital stay. "Wouldn't forget him."

Dr. Gray handed me discharge papers and medication instructions, going over everything carefully while Adam chattered excitedly to Lucas about all the things he wanted to do at home. I signed where necessary, only half-listening, my mind already jumping ahead to what came next.

Our life as a family. Adam in his new room. Lucas playing the role of father. Me trying to navigate being a wife and mother while slowly dying inside from loving both of them too much.

The pills I still hadn't taken burning a hole in my consciousness.

"All set," Dr. Gray said finally. "Sophia, Lucas—take care of this special boy. And Adam?" He crouched down to Adam's level. "You keep being brave, okay? And listen to your mama and papa."

"I will!" Adam promised enthusiastically.

We made our way out of the hospital, Adam holding Lucas's hand and practically bouncing with excitement. People stared—probably recognizing Lucas, definitely noting the sight of the billionaire CEO carrying a small boy and looking every inch the devoted father.

Let them stare. Let them take pictures. Let the tabloids have another field day with the Davenport family.

For once, I didn't care. Because Adam was finally free, finally home, finally getting the life he deserved.

Even if mine was becoming increasingly complicated.

Even if I'd missed my window to take that pill.

Even if I was possibly, probably, almost definitely making the worst decision of my life by not being more careful.

I'd deal with it later. Deal with all of it later.

For now, I just wanted to get my son home.

Our son, I corrected myself, watching Lucas buckle Adam carefully into the car seat we'd had installed yesterday.

Our son. Our family. Our complicated, beautiful, temporary life.

I slid into the backseat beside Adam while Lucas took the front passenger seat, and as Luke pulled away from the hospital, I felt the weight of everything pressing down on me.

The pills I hadn't taken. The feelings I couldn't voice. The marriage that was supposed to be temporary but felt increasingly permanent. The man I'd fallen in love with who probably still had feelings for Sofia Lang.

But Adam's small hand found mine, squeezing tight, and his smile was so bright it hurt to look at.

"I'm so happy, Mama," he whispered. "This is the best day ever."

And maybe that's all that mattered. Maybe Adam's happiness was worth every complication, every heartbreak, every impossible choice I'd have to make.

"Me too, baby," I whispered back. "Me too."

Even if it was only half true.

Even if I was terrified of what came next.

Even if I'd just made a choice—or failed to make one—that might change everything.