Amara’s POV.

The words hung in the air between us, a silent, painful truth. I couldn't go back. I couldn't live in the same house with the woman who was carrying his child. It was a line I couldn't cross.

"I can't," I said, my voice a small, pained whisper. "I can't stay in that house. I can't put my son in that position. I can't risk him staying with someone who would likely hurt him."

He sighed, a long, weary sound. "Amara, she wouldn't. I'll make sure of it. I'll move Eli to a room ...