The child darted out of sight, but Aaron’s eyes remained locked on where he’d disappeared. No matter how desperately he tried to convince himself that what he saw was an illusion, he knew that it wasn’t. The child hadn’t been a figment of his imagination—he was real. Flesh and blood.

But whose flesh and blood?

Gage’s, certainly—the resemblance was striking. At that age, Gage’s hair had been golden, too, and styled in nearly the same way. From what Aaron had seen of the child’s eyes, they’d been the same blue as Gage’s—eyes he’d dreamed about endlessly since leaving Gage’s side to pursue his education. One day, years into the future, Aaron had imagined a curious set of eyes like that looking up at him from a small, rosy-cheeked face. In his daydreams of life after academia, he’d pictured the tiny, innocent smile that would go along with the wonder in those eyes. Love, unconditional, from a child he’d made with Gage—a child he’d helped raise.

But this child, whoever he was, tore Aaron’s dreams to pieces and doused the flames of his excitement.

A thought, chilling and sinister, pushed through Aaron’s heartbreak and confusion: if you hadn’t tried to surprise him, would you have ever known, or would he have hidden this from you forever?

Something painful clicked in Aaron’s throat. All this time, all this time…

“Aaron,” Gage uttered, his voice strained. He grabbed Aaron’s hand with a jerky, blocky movement that screamed, “I’ve been caught.” Aaron tugged his hand away. An awful feeling stuck to his ribs, like his emotions were decaying him from the inside. All these years, he’d been lied to. He’d busted his ass to get through school, sacrificed sleep and limited his social life, for what? To come back to America to find the only man he’d ever loved had been with somebody else this whole time?

They were supposed to start a life together. Aaron had been faithful all this time—his heart too devoted to Gage to ever dream of wandering.

He’d been about to propose, and now this?

Aaron clenched his jaw. His fists trembled. “Who is he?”

“Aaron.” Gage’s voice trembled. “Please…”

“Who is he?”

Rage like this couldn’t be quantified, but Aaron could still feel it swell. Like a tick bloated on blood, it ballooned beyond what he’d thought possible, filling itself with dark, rancorous thoughts. The tremble in Aaron’s fists didn’t abate—it wouldn’t until he figured out who’d stolen Gage’s heart from him so he could rip him limb from limb.

All this time. All this time.

“It’s not what you think. You need to calm down. You—”

“Tell me who it is right now, Gage, or I swear to God—”

There was a crackling sound of terror from inside the apartment, like someone had crunched a cellophane bag in their fist and now rolled it between their palms.

“Stop!” Gage shouted, tears in his eyes. To Aaron’s surprise, Gage stepped forward, stance wide and shoulders squared. Fire flickered behind his tears, and his whole body trembled like he would fight Aaron if Aaron pushed any harder. “You’re scaring him!”

“Why would you do this to me?” Aaron asked, dropping his voice. No matter if Gage loved him or not, Aaron still loved Gage with everything he was, and everything he would ever be. If Gage wanted him to stop, he had to obey. He’d sworn to protect him, and even if Gage decided he no longer needed Aaron in his life, a part of Aaron would always care for him. “I love you, Gage. I love you so damned much. How could you do this? If you fell out of love with me, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me go?”

The tears in Gage’s eyes grew heavier. They gleamed in the lackluster hall lights, but they didn’t stream down his cheeks. The sight of them tore what was left of Aaron’s heart apart, but he couldn’t find it in himself to step forward and wipe them away. That wasn’t his place anymore. Gage had found someone else to care for him—someone else to share his heart with. Aaron hated the thought of it, but there was nothing he could do. If Gage had moved on, that was it. Nothing he could do could make him stay.

“I love you, too,” Gage said. He reached out for Aaron’s hand again, but Aaron backed away. He couldn’t bring himself to touch Gage for fear that he’d feel the sparks they’d once shared all over again. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. If I’d known you were coming home, I would have told you. I didn’t know. I love you.”

“Then whose child is that?” Aaron asked. The putrefying sensation in his chest continued to fester. He wasn’t sure it would ever go away. “How can you say that you love me when you had a child with someone else?”

“I didn’t,” Gage admitted, dropping his gaze to the floor. His voice was small, but his posture was broad—he occupied the doorway, blocking Aaron out as if he was afraid that Aaron might try to hurt the tiny life on the other side. No matter how upset and downtrodden he was, it seemed to Aaron like Gage would defend his baby with his life. Aaron knew what it felt like to love someone that much. Everything he’d ever done, he’d done for Gage.

He only wished Gage felt the same way.

“Then what, Gage?” Aaron asked. His throat was tight, and getting his words out was a struggle. “Whose baby is that?”

Gage lifted his chin. He looked Aaron in the eyes, and the first mournful tear rolled down his cheek. “He’s yours, Aaron. He belongs to you.”