Camille finally spoke, her voice slow, careful. “We’d love to meet her again. Properly introduce ourselves. ”

Of course, you would,I’d thought.

Then, I’d given a noncommittal response and ended the call as fast as I could.

Now, weeks later, that moment comes back to haunt me. They’re coming. They’ll be poking around, watching, asking questions. And if they sense even a sliver of doubt? If they realize Talia and I don’t live together…?

They’ll try to take Marigold away from me again.

I can’t let that happen.

I grab my phone and call Talia.

She answers on the second ring. “Hey.” She sounds tired. Or maybe she can already tell something’s off.

“We have a problem,” I say.

A beat of silence. Then, wary, “What kind of problem?”

“My in-laws. They’re coming next week.”

She exhales. “And?”

“They want to meet you.”

She goes quiet.

I push forward. “They’re suspicious. If they figure out we don’t actually live together, they’ll use it against me. They’ll try to take Marigold.”

I don’t expect her to care. Not really.

But when she finally speaks, her voice is softer. “You really think they’ll try that again?”

“I know they would.”

A long silence stretches between us.

Then I force out the words I hate having to say. “I need you to move in.”

Her sharp intake of breath is all the answer I need. “Talia—”

“No,” she says, very voice firm. “Soren, that was never part of the agreement.”

Agreement.

The word makes something bitter rise in my throat.

“Talia, listen—”

“No,youlisten,” she snaps. “I signed a piece of paper. That’s it. I didn’t agree to play house with you.”

Her anger shouldn’t bother me. But it does. Because deep down, I knew she’d say no. Iknew. But hearing it out loud still stings.

I force myself to stay calm. “It wouldn’t be permanent. Just until they leave.”

“Soren.” She sighs, and this time, she sounds tired. “I can’t.”

I rub my forehead, trying to ease the tension building there. “If they find out, they’ll take me to court. You know how ugly that could get.”