Lucian’s POV
I didn’t sleep. Not even for a second.
The night bled into the morning slowly. I sat in the dark with my elbows on the dining table, the cold marble pressing into my forearms. The city lights blinked outside the window like distant warnings. But all I could see was her face. Eloise. And Max.
My son.
My phone had sat beside me all night, its screen lighting up now and then with meaningless notifications, news, stocks, reminders. Not a single thing that mattered. Nothing that could rewind time.
By six a.m., I had already found Mike’s number. I didn’t save it under his name. Just digits I memorized long ago when I thought I’d never need them again.
I pressed call. One ring. Two.
Then his voice answered, low and clipped. “Yeah?”
“It’s Lucian.” My throat was tight, like the
