Thea’s POV

I stood frozen in the kitchen, my brain struggling to process what was happening. Aurora was back? How the hell was that even possible? When she left, she’d sworn she’d never return. Mom, Dad, and Roman would visit her, but she never came back home—not even for holidays. Seeing her in my house was a complete shock. Sebastian had told me once that, given the chance, he’d go back to Aurora in a heartbeat. This situation was even more confusing. If she was back, why was Sebastian kissing me? Why was he still with me?

I pulled myself from his grasp. He cursed under his breath; I couldn’t tell if it was because I moved or because Aurora had seen us kissing. I wrapped my arms around myself, staring silently at Aurora. I tried to push down the pain and hurt I’d endured throughout my marriage to Sebastian. Sure, I might have hurt her, but I’d fucking paid for that mistake. Her pain from losing Sebastian was nothing compared to the pain inflicted on me by Sebastian, my family, and his.

“Thea,” he called, his voice hoarse.

I shook my head. Stepping around him, I left the kitchen just as Mom and Roman walked in. I ignored them and rushed upstairs, entering Phoenix’s room and locking the door. She was still sleeping. Carefully, I slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor, burying my head between my legs, fighting back tears.

Just minutes ago, I’d thought this might be a chance for Sebastian and me to start over. Now? Now I wasn’t so sure, especially not with her back in our lives.

I tensed at approaching footsteps. They stopped outside, and a moment later, there was a gentle knock. I didn’t open it. I didn’t want to face Sebastian, or any of them—not right now.

“Thea, please open the door.” His voice was pleading.

I didn’t answer. I just needed a minute. I was used to this; it shouldn’t affect me like this.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll come out.” My voice sounded stronger than I felt.

He quietly agreed, and I heard him walk away. I forced myself to push down my emotions. I could deal with them later.

When I felt somewhat composed, I went to the master bedroom, showered, and changed my clothes. Returning to Phoenix’s room, I found her awake and fussy. I changed her diaper and sat in the rocking chair to feed her.

“Morning, Mom,” Leo said, rubbing his eyes, just as I was adjusting my top.

I smiled. “Good morning, Leo.”

“Is she awake already? I was hoping to feed her.”

“I’ve already fed her.”

He looked around. “But I don’t see a bottle.”

This was going to be an awkward explanation. I swallowed. “When she’s with me, she doesn’t need a bottle. I provide the milk,” I explained.

This was probably new to Leo. He’d been the only child in both households for years; he’d never been around babies or nursing mothers.

“I’m confused. Why doesn’t she need a bottle when she’s with you?”

“Because I breastfeed her,” I answered, then quietly asked, “Do you know what that means?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“It means your mom feeds her with milk from her breasts,” Sebastian interjected, causing us to turn toward him.