Evelyn’s POV
The day’s activities had exhausted the children, but their excitent hadn’t faded as we gathered in the cabin’s living room to discuss sleeping arrangents.
"We’ll take the bunk bed room," Rowan announced, gesturing toward the smaller bedroom.
I nodded, then froze as realization hit. If the kids were taking the bunk beds, that left only...
"I’m not sharing the master bedroom," I said firmly, crossing my arms. While I wasn’t as resistant to him anymore, I wasn’t ready to jump into bed together either.
Calvin raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t suggest we would."
Rhys looked between us, his expression practical. "But Dad can’t fit in our bunk beds. They’re child-sized."
He was right. The sturdy wooden bunks were clearly designed for children, not a six-foot-sothing Alpha male.
"I’ll take the couch," Calvin offered smoothly.
Rowan frowned. "But it’s too narrow, and it gets cold by the lake at night. We didn’t bring extra blankets."
While the boys debated, I noticed Alexis watching carefully.
"I’ll sleep with Mommy," she announced suddenly, her voice small but certain. She turned to Calvin with a serious expression. "Uncle Calvin... can have my blanket for the couch."
Calvin’s expression softened. He knelt down and lifted Alexis into his arms.
"Thank you, little princess," he murmured against her hair.
She nestled against him, tiny arms wrapping around his neck. The sight made my chest tighten.
"That settles it then," I said quietly.
The next morning arrived with unexpected harmony. Calvin prepared breakfast, while I supervised the children’s morning routine. We spent the day playing board gas, hiking along the lakeshore, and skipping stones across the water.
What struck most was Calvin’s easy interaction with Alexis. She followed him around like a shadow, her hand often finding his, her laughter more frequent in his presence. He seed to know exactly what she needed—when to lift her over a muddy patch, how to help her cast her fishing line, which snacks she preferred.
Was this because I’d been too busy lately? Had I missed the subtle shifts in my daughter’s preferences? The thought stung.
By Sunday afternoon, as we packed to leave, exhaustion had claid Alexis. She fell asleep in Calvin’s arms during the drive back, her head nestled against his chest.
When we pulled into the underground garage, I got out first and ca around to take her.
"I’ve got her," I whispered, reaching for my sleeping daughter.
Despite my gentle coaxing, Alexis’s fingers remained clenched around Calvin’s shirt, refusing to let go even in sleep. She made a small sound of protest when I tried to separate her.
Calvin’s eyes t mine over our daughter’s head. "I’ll carry her," he said quietly. "She’s comfortable."
I stepped back.
He adjusted his hold on her, pulling his jacket higher to shield her from the garage’s chill, and walked toward the elevator. Rowan and Rhys bounded ahead, pressing the button.
"Mom, co on!" Rowan whispered loudly.
I followed, watching how naturally Calvin carried our daughter, how her body curved trustingly against his. When had he beco so comfortable in the role of father?
The elevator carried us to my floor. Calvin walked directly to the master bedroom, moving with familiarity through my ho.
I hovered in the doorway, watching as he gently removed Alexis’s shoes and knelt beside the bed. His movents were deliberate—first laying her down, then pulling the blanket over her small form, one large hand smoothing her hair back.
The mont her back touched the mattress, Alexis’s grip on his shirt tightened. She squird upward, refusing to settle.
Calvin didn’t hesitate. "Daddy’s here," he murmured, his voice dropping to a soothing tone. "Alexis doesn’t need to be afraid."
He continued patting her arm gently until she relaxed, rolled onto her side, and finally released his shirt. Only then did he carefully tuck the blanket around her and step back.
When he turned, he found watching from the doorway.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
Rowan and Rhys peered around , faces brightening when they saw their sister sleeping peacefully.
"Dad, you’re amazing!" Rhys whispered. "You got her to sleep so fast."
Calvin ruffled their hair. "Do you want to co to the office with , or stay here with your mom?"
The boys exchanged glances before answering in unison, "We’ll stay with Mom."
Calvin’s gaze found mine, intense and searching. "Is that alright with you?"
I bristled at the implication I couldn’t handle my own children. "Of course it’s fine."
"I should go," he said finally.
"Yes," I agreed, though less firmly than I’d intended.
When Gary returned that evening, the boys had already been picked up by Calvin’s driver, leaving just Alexis and at ho.
"How was the weekend?" he asked, dropping his bag on the kitchen counter.
I sighed, pouring myself wine. "It was... nice, actually. But I noticed sothing concerning."
"What’s that?"
"The kids seem much closer to Calvin lately. Especially Alexis. She barely wanted to let him leave today."
Gary’s expression softened. "And that bothers you?"
"Shouldn’t it? I’m their mother. I carried them, gave birth to them, raised them—"
"While working sixteen-hour days in the lab," Gary pointed out gently.
The truth stung. "I’ve been busy developing treatnts for Alexis."
"They’re your children, Evelyn. Of course they love you. But children need ti, not just purpose." He grabbed a grape from the fruit bowl. "When was the last ti you spent a full day with them without checking your phone?"
I couldn’t rember, which was answer enough.
"I’ll cut back my lab hours," I decided.
Later that night, I returned to the master bedroom to find Alexis awake, dressed in her pale yellow pajamas. She was lying on her stomach, chin propped on her hands, staring at sothing on the couch.
Following her gaze, I spotted Calvin’s coat—the one he’d used to cover her in the car.
"Mom, it’s Dad’s coat," she said, pointing.
"It doesn’t matter," I replied dismissively. "I paid for it anyway."
Alexis tugged at her own pajamas, her expression suddenly proud. "Mom bought these too."
I couldn’t help smiling. "Yes, all of Alexis’s clothes co from Mom."
After turning off the light, I lay beside her, humming a lullaby and patting her back. Just when I thought she was drifting off, her small voice broke the silence.
"Mom, would you be mad if you found out I did sothing bad?"
I frowned in the darkness. "What do you an? You don’t do bad things."
Even in the dim light, I could see her expression—conflicted, worried.
"Did sothing happen, sweetie?"
She chewed her lip. "Did you have fun this weekend? With all of us?"
"Of course I did," I answered honestly.
Her face brightened, but uncertainty still lingered. "Do you like when we’re all together? Like a family?"
The question hit harder than expected. Images from the weekend flashed through my mind—Calvin helping her fish, the boys’ laughter, all of us around the fire pit.
It had been the family life I’d once dread of, before Clara, before the betrayal, before everything fell apart.
I still couldn’t fully trust Calvin, but I couldn’t deny that the weekend had softened sothing in . Not forgiveness, not yet—but the sharp edges of anger had dulled.
"Sleep now," I whispered, unwilling to answer directly.
Alexis clutched my shirt as she drifted off. I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
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