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Hailee’s POV

For a mont, the room was so quiet I could hear the soft beeping of the heart monitors. My boys, my three beautiful sons, stared at with wide, confused eyes, each of them looking for answers I didn’t know how to give.

Then Ozzy’s small, trembling voice broke the silence.

"Mom," he said slowly, frowning. "How... how can we have three different fathers?"

My heart stopped.

I froze, my throat closing up. The question hung heavy in the air, cruel in its innocence. How was I supposed to explain sothing so dark, so shaful, to my own children? They were only ten. They didn’t deserve to carry my mistakes.

"Ozzy..." I whispered, my voice barely audible.

They all waited, three pairs of eyes, three pieces of my heart, staring at like strangers.

I looked down, my hands shaking. "It’s complicated," I said finally. "You wouldn’t understand right now."

Oscar, always the sharp one, tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady and too mature for his age. "Mother," he said quietly, his tone calm but piercing. "Did you have sex with them at close range?"

His words hit like a slap.

"Oscar!" Nathan barked, shocked.

But Oscar didn’t flinch. He just kept staring at , waiting, his mind already putting the pieces together.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

And that silence, that heavy, dreadful silence, was all the confirmation they needed.

Oscar’s brows furrowed. He looked down, then back at , hurt flickering across his young face.

Oliver clenched his fists. His voice shook with anger. "You lied to us," he said sharply. "You always said our dad was dead."

Tears blurred my vision. "Oliver, please—"

"No!" he shouted, his small voice cracking. "Don’t lie again, Mom!"

The room filled with tension. Nathan wanted to speak, his jaw tight, but before he could say anything, Frederick spoke.

"That’s enough," he said firmly, stepping beside . His tone wasn’t loud, but it carried authority that made everyone freeze. He looked at my sons, his expression calm but serious. "Your mother loves you. Everything she did was to protect you."

Ozzy turned to him, tears in his eyes. "Protect us? From what?" he demanded. "From our fathers?"

"No," Frederick said softly.

"Then from who?" Ozzy shot back, his small voice trembling with emotion. "If they’re not monsters, then what were you protecting us from? Don’t we deserve to know them? Don’t we deserve the truth?"

His words cut straight through .

"Ozzy—" I started, but he shook his head.

Oscar’s tone was quiet now, but it hurt more than shouting. "You always said love was honest," he said, eyes down. "But you didn’t tell us the truth. You lied every single day."

Oliver’s eyes filled with tears, but his anger burned through them. "Were we mistakes?" he choked. "Is that why you hid us?"

"No!" I cried instantly, taking a step toward them. "You are not mistakes! You’re my life, my everything—"

"Then why did you lie?" Oliver yelled, his voice breaking. "Why didn’t you tell us?"

"I was scared!" I finally scread, the words bursting out of . "I was scared of losing you! Of losing all of you!"

My voice cracked. My body shook. "You don’t know what it was like. I had nothing, no one! And when I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t even know which one of them was the father. I just... I just wanted to protect you from the chaos that cos with their world."

The boys didn’t speak. Their faces were pale, stunned, processing everything.

Frederick placed a hand on my shoulder, stepping slightly in front of , shielding like he always did. "Enough," he said softly to the room. "She made mistakes, yes, but she raised you alone. She fought for you. She gave you life."

But Oscar, the hot-tempered among the three, looked up sharply, his eyes burning with a mix of hurt and anger.

"She gave us life?" he snapped, his voice trembling. "No, she gave us lies. Maybe we would’ve gotten a better mom."

The room went still.

Nathan’s eyes widened. "Oscar!" he barked, his tone sharp. "Watch your mouth!"

But it was too late.

The words had already hit like a blade straight through the heart. I stood frozen, my breath catching in my throat. My own son, the one I carried, the one I almost died bringing into the world, had just said the one thing I’d always feared hearing.

My vision blurred. My chest burned. I felt Frederick’s hand on my shoulder, steady, protective... but I couldn’t stay there another second.

Without a word, I turned and ran.

I heard soone calling my na, maybe Callum, maybe Dane, but I didn’t stop. My bare feet hit the cold floor, my hospital gown brushing against my legs as I pushed past the double doors and into the open corridor.

By the ti I reached the garden outside the hospital, my breath was coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The afternoon air was cold, biting against my skin. I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, trying to hold in the sob that tore through , but it broke free anyway.

Tears spilled fast, hot and uncontrollable. My shoulders shook as I leaned against the wall.

"Maybe we would’ve gotten a better mom."

His words replayed in my head again and again until they beca a scream inside .

I covered my mouth to muffle the sound of my crying, but it didn’t help. My heart was breaking in a way I didn’t think it could anymore.

Then, I felt it — that familiar, strong presence behind .

"Nathan..." I breathed before even turning around.

His scent, his aura — I would have known it anywhere.

I turned, and there he was, standing just a few feet away, his face shadowed, eyes full of storm and sothing deeper, sothing that looked too much like pain.

He didn’t speak right away. He just watched , his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

For a mont, neither of us said a word, just the sound of the wind and my quiet sobs between us.

Then, softly, he said, "You shouldn’t have run out like that."

I shook my head, wiping at my tears. "He hates , Nathan... My own son hates ."

Nathan’s voice was low, rough. "He doesn’t hate you, Hailee. He’s angry. He’s confused. You dropped a truth on him that even grown n can’t handle."

I looked up at him, tears still streaming down my face. "But he said—"

"I know what he said," Nathan cut in, his voice firm. "And he’ll regret it the second he sees you hurting like this."

His eyes softened. "You’re still their mother. That doesn’t change."

I stared at him, my heart twisting. "You hate too."

Nathan’s jaw tightened. He looked away, exhaling slowly. "I want to," he admitted quietly. "But I can’t."

The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of rain.

He stepped closer, his eyes eting mine—and for a brief second, the anger, the heartbreak, all faded, leaving only feelings we’d tried so hard to bury.

"Go back inside," he said softly, his voice trembling just slightly. "Your boys need you."

And even though I wanted to run farther, to disappear completely, a part of —the part that still loved him—wanted nothing more than to stay right there in that mont, where his voice still sounded like safety.

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