Claire's POV
"Love?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. "You don't deserve to use that word, Evander, not after everything you've done."
"I know," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "But I am still standing here, aren't I? Am I not trying to fix what I have? Even if you hate me, even if you never forgive me, I won't stop trying." He inhaled deeply as his unwavering gaze was fixed on mine. "But the conversation I am asking for—it's not about us. It's about my son."
I frowned, my brows knitting together as I tried to make sense of his words. Eliam? What about him?
He kept repeating that it was about Eliam. Was this another one of his manipulative tactics, or was there something more?
"Fine," I replied reluctantly, my voice sharp but calm. The urgency in his tone couldn't be ignored, no matter how much I wanted to walk away. "But don't think for a second that I trust you, Evander."
