Updated Apr 16, 2026 • ~12 min read
Chapter 12: The Negotiation
Luna
Luna agrees to meet Matthias on Saturday afternoon at a coffee shop halfway between Queens and Manhattan—neutral territory that’s not her apartment or his office, somewhere public where they can have a difficult conversation without the risk of it devolving into the kind of emotional breakdown that happened the last time they tried to discuss Sofia’s future, somewhere that forces both of them to maintain composure because there are witnesses.
Carmen is watching Sofia for a few hours, giving Luna space to navigate this negotiation without her daughter overhearing things a three-year-old shouldn’t be exposed to—and Luna is grateful for that buffer even as she wishes she could hide behind Sofia’s presence, use her daughter as a shield against having to face Matthias and the complicated tangle of feelings he provokes.
She arrives at the coffee shop ten minutes early, orders a latte she probably won’t drink because her stomach is too nervous to handle caffeine, and claims a table in the corner where they’ll have some privacy from the other Saturday afternoon customers reading and working on laptops—and then she waits, watching the door and trying not to spiral into anxiety about what she’s about to agree to.
Matthias walks in exactly on time, scanning the room until he spots her, and something in Luna’s chest does a complicated flip when their eyes meet because he looks tired, worried, nothing like the controlled CEO who showed up at her office a month ago—he looks like a man who’s been having the same sleepless nights she has, the same anxious spirals about whether they can find a way through this mess without destroying each other.
“Thank you for coming,” Matthias says as he sits down across from her, and the formality of the greeting would be almost funny if everything weren’t so fraught. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I wasn’t sure I would either,” Luna admits, because honesty seems like the only option when they’ve already lied to each other enough through omission and miscommunication to last a lifetime. “But we need to figure this out. For Sofia.”
“For Sofia,” Matthias echoes, and there’s something almost reverent in the way he says their daughter’s name, like he’s still getting used to claiming her as his. “I want to apologize again—”
“I know,” Luna interrupts, because they could spend hours on apologies and recriminations and it won’t change anything, won’t undo the lawyer letter or the week of terror or the trust that was broken. “You panicked. You were scared. I understand. Can we just… move forward? Figure out how this actually works?”
Matthias nods, looking relieved that she’s not making him grovel, and pulls out a notepad from his messenger bag—not a legal document, not a formal custody proposal, just blank paper and a pen, like they’re collaborating on a project instead of negotiating parental rights.
“I don’t want to take Sofia from you,” Matthias says, and the directness of the statement catches Luna off guard even though it’s basically what he said when he showed up at her apartment Thursday morning. “I want to know her. Be her father. But I understand that requires earning her trust—and yours. So I’m asking for supervised visits. Your terms. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Luna studies him across the table, looking for signs of manipulation or hidden agenda, but all she sees is exhaustion and sincerity and the same desperate hope she feels—that maybe they can do this without destroying each other, without traumatizing Sofia, without turning their daughter’s childhood into a battlefield.
“She doesn’t know you,” Luna says, voicing the concern that’s been keeping her awake at night. “You’re a stranger who showed up a few times. I can’t just tell her ‘this is your daddy’ and expect her to understand or accept that.”
“I know,” Matthias agrees. “So we take it slow. I visit. We play. She gets used to me being around. And when you think she’s ready, when you think the time is right, we tell her the truth together.”
The word “together” does something to Luna’s defenses, softens them slightly, because it suggests partnership instead of adversarial parents fighting over custody—and maybe that’s naive, maybe Luna is setting herself up for disappointment, but she wants to believe it’s possible.
“Okay,” Luna hears herself say, making the decision before she can second-guess herself into paralysis. “Okay. Supervised visits at my apartment. One hour, twice a week to start. You don’t tell her you’re her father until I say it’s time. You don’t bring expensive gifts or try to buy her affection. You just… be present. Show up consistently. Prove you’re serious about this.”
“I can do that,” Matthias says immediately, and Luna can see him filing away her conditions, mentally committing to them. “What days work for you?”
They spend the next thirty minutes working out logistics—Tuesday and Thursday evenings after Luna picks Sofia up from daycare, six to seven o’clock, giving Matthias an hour to spend with his daughter before her bedtime routine starts—and Luna is surprised by how reasonable Matthias is being, how willing to accommodate her schedule and her concerns instead of demanding more time or pushing for overnight visits or any of the things she feared he would try to claim.
“What about work?” Luna asks eventually, because they haven’t addressed the elephant in the room—that they work together, that Matthias is technically her boss, that mixing personal and professional is probably a disaster waiting to happen. “I can’t keep working for you while we’re… doing this.”
“I know,” Matthias says, and something that looks like regret flashes across his face. “I’ve already talked to HR about transferring you to a different department within Wolfe Industries, same salary and benefits, reporting to someone else. Or if you’d prefer to find a different job entirely, I can provide excellent references and a severance package to tide you over while you search.”
Luna blinks in surprise because she expected him to make her continued employment conditional on cooperation with visitation, expected some kind of power play that leveraged his control over her paycheck—but instead he’s offering her an exit, a way to untangle professional from personal before it gets even more complicated.
“Transfer,” Luna decides after a moment’s thought, because finding a new job is stressful and time-consuming and she can’t afford to be unemployed even briefly. “Same salary, different boss, nothing to do with you professionally.”
“I’ll have HR contact you Monday with options,” Matthias says, making a note on his pad. “You can choose which department fits your career goals best.”
The fact that he said “career goals” instead of just “which job you’ll tolerate” makes Luna’s chest tighten slightly because it suggests he actually cares about her professional development, actually wants her to thrive instead of just parking her somewhere out of the way—and Luna doesn’t know what to do with that consideration, doesn’t know how to reconcile the man who sent her threatening lawyer letters with the one who’s currently worried about her career trajectory.
“What about child support?” Luna asks, because Carmen told her she needs to address financial obligations, needs to establish formally what Matthias will contribute so she has legal recourse if he decides to stop paying. “Your lawyer’s letter mentioned retroactive support for the past three years plus ongoing contributions. What does that actually mean?”
Matthias names a monthly figure that makes Luna’s coffee cup freeze halfway to her mouth because it’s more than she makes in a month, more than she spends on rent and food and everything combined, more money than she’s ever had disposable access to in her life.
“That’s too much,” Luna hears herself say, even though part of her brain is screaming that she should take the money, should let Matthias’s guilt translate into financial security for Sofia. “I don’t need that much. Sofia’s expenses are—”
“College fund,” Matthias interrupts gently. “Savings for emergencies. Ballet classes or soccer or whatever she wants to try. Birthday parties that aren’t budgeted down to the last dollar. Luna, I have resources. Let me contribute. Let me make up for the three years I wasn’t there by ensuring Sofia has opportunities.”
Luna wants to argue, wants to maintain her independence and refuse his money because accepting it feels like admitting she can’t provide for her daughter alone—but she also knows that pride is a luxury she can’t afford, that Sofia deserves those opportunities Matthias is offering, that rejecting financial support to protect Luna’s ego would be putting her own feelings ahead of her daughter’s wellbeing.
“Okay,” Luna says quietly. “But we put it in writing. Formal agreement that you reviewed by my legal aid attorney. I need protection in case you change your mind.”
“Of course,” Matthias agrees. “Whatever makes you feel secure. I’ll have Richard draft a voluntary support agreement that you can have reviewed before signing.”
They talk for another hour, working through details that feel simultaneously mundane and momentous—what Luna will tell Sofia about who Matthias is (her mama’s friend who wants to spend time with her), what happens if Sofia has a bad reaction to the visits (they pause and reassess), what Matthias should do if Sofia gets hurt or sick during his hour (call Luna immediately)—and by the time they’re done, Luna is exhausted but also oddly hopeful.
Maybe this can work.
Maybe they can co-parent without destroying each other.
Maybe Sofia can have a father who’s present and consistent and genuinely interested in her wellbeing instead of just claiming parental rights through legal warfare.
“First visit is Tuesday?” Matthias confirms as they’re packing up to leave, and Luna can hear the barely contained excitement in his voice, the eagerness of someone who’s about to get something he desperately wants.
“Tuesday at six,” Luna confirms. “Don’t be late. And Matthias—” she pauses, making sure he’s really listening. “If you hurt her, if you let her down, if you disappear from her life after making her care about you—I will never forgive you. She’s been through enough. She deserves better.”
“I know,” Matthias says, and the sincerity in his voice makes Luna want to believe him. “I won’t let her down. I promise.”
“Don’t promise,” Luna says, echoing his words from their last conversation. “Show me through actions, not words.”
Matthias smiles slightly at having his own advice returned to him, and nods. “I will.”
They leave the coffee shop separately—Luna first, Matthias waiting a respectful interval to give her space—and Luna spends the subway ride back to Queens replaying the conversation in her head, looking for signs that she’s making a huge mistake, that Matthias is playing her, that she’s being naive to trust him after everything.
But she keeps coming back to the look on his face when they discussed Sofia, the genuine emotion when he talked about being a father, the willingness to accommodate all of Luna’s conditions without argument or negotiation—and Luna has to believe that’s real, has to trust her instincts even though they’ve been wrong before.
Carmen is waiting at her apartment with Sofia when Luna arrives, and her best friend takes one look at Luna’s face and correctly interprets the outcome.
“You agreed to let him visit,” Carmen says, not quite a question.
“Twice a week, supervised, my apartment,” Luna confirms, scooping Sofia up for a hug even though her daughter is getting too big to carry easily. “Starting Tuesday.”
“How do you feel about that?” Carmen asks, and Luna has to really think about the answer.
“Terrified,” she admits. “But also like it’s the right thing to do. Sofia deserves to know her father if he’s willing to be a real father. And Matthias seems… genuine. Like he actually wants to be in her life.”
“And if he’s not?” Carmen presses. “If this is just the novelty of discovering he has a kid and he loses interest after a few weeks?”
“Then I’ll pick up the pieces and remind Sofia that she’s loved and wanted even if her father is an idiot,” Luna says, holding her daughter tighter. “But Carmen, I have to give him a chance. I can’t let my fear of him leaving prevent Sofia from potentially having a relationship with her father.”
Carmen nods, accepting this, and helps Luna make dinner while Sofia plays in the living room—and that night, after Luna puts her daughter to bed, she lies awake thinking about Tuesday, about what it will be like to watch Matthias try to bond with the daughter he didn’t know existed until two weeks ago, about whether she’s doing the right thing or setting them all up for heartbreak.
But then she remembers the paternity test results that arrived in her email this morning (99.9% match, official and legal and irrefutable), remembers that Matthias has a biological right to know his daughter even if Luna wishes the situation were simpler, and she makes peace with her decision.
Tuesday at six o’clock, Matthias Wolfe will show up at her apartment to spend one supervised hour with his daughter.
And Luna will watch, protect Sofia’s heart, and hope desperately that she hasn’t just made the biggest mistake of her parenting life by trusting a man who’s already let her down once before.
But what choice does she have?
Sofia deserves a father.
And Matthias deserves a chance to prove he can be one.
Even if it terrifies Luna to give him that chance.
Even if she knows her heart will shatter if he fails.
For Sofia’s sake, Luna has to try.
And hope that this time, Matthias Wolfe doesn’t disappear when things get difficult.
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