He quickly let go of me, grabbed his phone, and strode toward the door.

"I'll have Nate sort out the new agreement," he said quickly. "Something's come up at the office. I have to go."

Without waiting for my reply, his thumbs flew across the screen. I caught a glimpse of his message just before he angled the phone away: Ursula, don't worry. I'm on my way.

Just then, my own phone buzzed. It was a call from the admissions office of The Dalton School.

"Miss Ashford, your husband mentioned applying for a Poppy Vance's admission, but we have another couple interested in her. Do you have time to come by and discuss the situation?"

I took a deep breath, schooling my features into a placid mask, and drove to the school.

From a distance, I saw Rocco standing by the garden gate. Before I could get any closer, a figure rushed out and threw herself into his arms.

"Rocco, you're finally here! Please, you have to help Poppy! I can't let someone else adopt her. I don't want her calling other people Mom and Dad."

I stared, frozen, at the woman he was gently comforting.

It was Ursula.

Rocco looked down at her, his expression firm.

"Don't worry. I won't let anyone take our daughter."

They stood there, wrapped in the easy intimacy of a real husband and wife. In that moment, it was obvious I was the intruder in their life.

I didn't move until they had disappeared inside the building. Then, I slowly got out of the car and followed them to the second floor.

Near the end of the hall, a clique of wealthy mothers huddled outside an office, their whispers sharp enough to cut through the silence.

"Is that the child Rocco Wright is trying to place? She looks just like him."

"Of course she does—she's his illegitimate daughter. The whole adoption thing is a front, a way to make her a legitimate heir."

"Oh, my God. Then who's the mother? It can't be Murphy, right?"

"No way. Everyone knows Murphy can't have kids. Didn't you hear about her car accident years ago? I heard it left some... permanent damage."

"That's not what I heard. I heard her wild youth led to some serious health problems. Why else would Rocco go to all this trouble, pretending to adopt someone else's child?"

"Exactly. Everyone knows Ursula is Rocco's real love. It's been obvious since they were kids. Just look at them—they're the perfect couple."

Each word was a dagger twisting deeper into my chest.

For five years, I had been unable to give Rocco a child. He always comforted me, whispering that it was okay, that having me was more than enough.

Now I understood. He'd had a backup plan. A whole other life. One that never included me.

My legs felt weak. I had to brace myself against the wall to stay upright.

Suddenly, the office door swung open.

Rocco emerged, holding Poppy in one arm and Ursula's hand in the other.

Our eyes met. Panic flashed in his eyes, a fleeting but unmistakable glint of fear.

"Hi, Murphy," Ursula chirped, raising her free hand in a cheerful wave. "Long time no see."

Rocco dropped Ursula's hand as if it were on fire and rushed to my side.

The words tumbled out of him in a panicked rush. "Murphy—what are you doing here? This isn't what it looks like. Ursula just volunteers here. She helps with all the kids. I was just talking about Poppy's enrollment..."

He shifted Poppy in his arms, holding her out as if the child herself could be a shield.

"This is Poppy. See? Isn't she adorable? She's the best-behaved child in the school."

I nodded, my hand reaching out to stroke her cheek.

"She looks so much like you. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was your biological daughter."

But the scent was unmistakable. Ursula's bespoke perfume—cloying and expensive—clung to the child's clothes, so strong it felt like it had soaked into her very skin.

Rocco opened his mouth to say something, but Poppy suddenly pointed to a star-patterned tattoo on his wrist.

"Mommy said," she announced in her small voice, "Daddy got this for me."

That tattoo was my fifth-anniversary gift from him. A symbol of the night we met.

Rocco's face went pale, his breath catching. The fear radiating from him was palpable.

"Don't misunderstand," he stammered, the excuse flimsy. "Ursula was just playing a game with her. She's great with kids. Poppy's just a child, she doesn't know what she's saying. Once the adoption is final, I'll… I'll set her straight."

But the desperation in his voice only sharpened the pain in my chest.

If he was so afraid of hurting me, why lie? Why trap me in this false life, pretending we were soulmates while building a family with another woman?

Why let me be the subject of gossip and pitying stares?

"Don't worry. I'm not misunderstanding anything." My voice was light, almost serene. "Go finish the paperwork. I'll wait for you in the car."

Rocco relaxed so visibly it was like watching the sun break through clouds, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

"Wait for me, okay? I'll be right back."

I turned and walked toward the parking lot, the weight in my chest growing heavier with each step. I passed a few socialites who didn't bother to lower their voices.

"That poor woman. She has no idea, does she?"

"I heard Rocco is here almost every day with Ursula. And they have a legal trust agreement. Doesn't that make Murphy the homewrecker?"

Their words clawed at my back, but I didn't stop. I didn't flinch. I just took out my phone with trembling fingers and sent a message to a number I hadn't contacted in years.

[Dad, I'm tired. I want to come home.]

Not long after I got home, my father, Marcus, initiated a video call.

We hadn't seen each other in five years. His hair was much grayer than I remembered.

"My darling daughter," he said, his voice thick with a concern that transcended time and distance. "Has Rocco been mistreating you?"

A lump formed in my throat. I tried to hold it together, but the tears betrayed me, streaming down my face.

"I've missed you so much, Dad…"

The fight that had torn us apart felt like a lifetime ago, his furious words—"Get out! You're no daughter of mine!"—still echoing in my memory. His anger hadn't been at me, I realized now, but for me. He still loved me.

He let out a long, weary sigh, his eyes filled with a sad warmth.

"No matter what, this will always be your home. I'll send someone to pick you up tomorrow."

After we hung up, I lay awake all night. Sleep wouldn't come. I was drowning in guilt for what I had done to my family, for abandoning everything to chase a man who had just been a mirage.