Updated Dec 2, 2025 • ~8 min read
Brian Adams showed up at Knox’s studio on a Tuesday morning without warning.
Knox was working on a new painting—something soft and hopeful for the first time in months. He looked up to find Julia’s father standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable in the artist’s space.
“Mr. Adams.”
“We need to talk.” Brian gestured to the painting Knox was working on. “New collection?”
“Just—something personal.”
Brian moved closer, studying the canvas. It was abstract but unmistakable: soft blues and golds, curves that suggested a parent holding an infant.
“For the baby,” Brian said. Not a question.
“Yeah.”
Brian was quiet for a moment. “Julia told me about your arrangement. That you’re going to be involved as co-parents.”
“She did?”
“I’m not happy about it.”
Knox set down his brush. “I know.”
“But—” Brian seemed to struggle with the words. “I’ve been having you investigated for months. Did you know that?”
“I suspected.”
“Tony Hicks. Best private investigator I’ve ever hired. Very thorough.” Brian pulled out a folder. “He found everything. The donation, the timing, the connection to Julia. Compiled a complete report.”
Knox’s stomach tightened. “Okay?”
“He brought it to me three weeks ago. Complete breakdown of how you manipulated the situation, pursued my pregnant daughter, lied for months.” Brian set the folder on Knox’s paint-splattered table. “I was ready to destroy you. Had lawyers draft documents to cut you out completely. Make sure you never saw Julia or the baby again.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Because Tony told me something interesting. He said he’d offered you an out. Told you that if you walked away, ended things with Julia before the birth, he’d tell me the investigation was a dead end. That the donor was untraceable.”
Knox remembered that conversation. The coffee shop. The choice between telling Julia himself or disappearing.
“He gave you an escape,” Brian continued. “A way to avoid all consequences. And you didn’t take it. You told Julia the truth yourself.”
“It was the right thing to do.”
“Was it? Because the right thing cost you everything. Julia, the baby, the life you were building. Most men in your position would have run. Taken the easy way out.”
“I loved her. Love her. Running wasn’t an option.”
Brian studied him for a long moment. “I want to hate you.”
“I understand.”
“I want to believe you’re a manipulative liar who saw an opportunity and took it. That would be easier. Simpler.”
“But?”
“But I’ve been watching you for three months. Through Tony’s reports, through my own observations. And I see someone who made terrible choices but is trying—genuinely trying—to make it right.”
Knox didn’t know what to say.
“Julia’s mother died when she was eight,” Brian said quietly. “Did you know that?”
“She mentioned it.”
“I failed her after that. Buried myself in work, sent her to boarding school, kept her at arm’s length. Told myself I was protecting her, but really I was just protecting myself from more pain.” Brian moved to the window. “Now she’s about to become a mother herself. And I see her making the same mistake I did—pushing away someone who cares because it’s easier than risking more hurt.”
“Julia has every right to be angry at me.”
“Yes, she does. But anger and trust aren’t mutually exclusive. You can be angry at someone and still trust them to show up. To do the work.” Brian turned to face Knox. “Are you going to show up?”
“Every single day.”
“Even when it’s hard? Even when Julia’s still angry? Even when co-parenting means watching her build a life that doesn’t include you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The same question Julia had asked. The same question Knox had asked himself a thousand times.
“Because Charlie deserves to have both biological parents,” Knox said simply. “And because I love Julia enough to want her to be happy, even if that happiness doesn’t include me.”
Brian was quiet for a long moment. Then he extended his hand.
“I don’t like you,” he said. “I don’t trust you. But I respect what you’re trying to do. For my daughter. For my grandchild.”
Knox shook his hand, surprised by the gesture.
“Don’t make me regret this,” Brian warned. “One more lie, one more betrayal, and I will make your life a living hell. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Good.” Brian picked up the investigation folder. “I’m going to destroy this. Tony’s already been paid to forget everything he found. As far as anyone knows, you and Julia met, fell in love, and she invited you to be part of Charlie’s life. That’s the story.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s close enough to the truth. And because that baby deserves to grow up without their parents’ mess hanging over them.” Brian moved toward the door. “Julia’s due date is in ten days. You should call her. Make sure you’re prepared.”
“I will.”
Brian paused at the door. “Knox? Thank you. For telling her yourself. For not running. It doesn’t erase what you did, but—it matters.”
Then he was gone, leaving Knox alone with his painting and a feeling he couldn’t quite name.
Acceptance, maybe. Or the beginning of it.
Knox picked up his phone and texted Julia: How are you feeling?
Her response came quickly: Huge. Uncomfortable. Ready for this baby to evict themselves already. You?
Knox: Terrified. Excited. Reading parenting books obsessively.
Julia: Same. Minus the books. I’m too tired to read.
Knox: Want company? I can bring dinner.
There was a long pause. Knox wondered if he’d overstepped.
Julia: Thai food. Extra spring rolls. And be prepared for me to fall asleep mid-conversation.
Knox: Deal. See you at 7.
Knox spent the afternoon finishing the painting for Charlie’s nursery, then picked up enough Thai food for three people because Julia was eating for two and her cravings were intense.
When he arrived at her apartment, Julia opened the door wearing pajamas and looking exhausted.
“You look beautiful,” Knox said.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
Julia smiled despite herself. “Come in. I’ve been having Braxton Hicks all day and I’m grumpy about it.”
They ate on her couch, Julia demolishing spring rolls while complaining about swollen ankles and the baby using her ribs as a kickboxing studio.
“I saw your father today,” Knox said between bites of Pad Thai.
Julia looked up sharply. “Oh God. What did he do?”
“Actually—he was almost nice. Told me he respects me trying to make this right.”
“Brian Adams said that? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“I’m as surprised as you are.”
Julia shook her head. “He’s been weird lately. Asking me how you are, if you’re prepared for the baby. It’s unsettling.”
“Maybe he’s coming around.”
“Or planning your murder and being extra nice first to throw off suspicion.”
Knox laughed. “Either way, I’ll take it.”
They finished dinner and moved to the nursery. Everything was ready—crib assembled, clothes organized, changing table stocked. Knox’s painting leaned against the wall, not yet hung.
“Is that new?” Julia asked, seeing it for the first time.
“Just finished it today. For Charlie. If—if you want it.”
Julia studied the painting—the abstract parent and child, rendered in soft blues and golds. Her eyes went suspiciously bright.
“It’s perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Julia touched the canvas gently. “We should hang it. Over the changing table.”
They spent the next twenty minutes getting it hung properly, Julia directing from the rocking chair since she couldn’t safely climb ladders anymore.
When it was finally in place, Julia stood back to admire it.
“Our kid has an original Knox Barrow,” she said. “Before you get famous and they’re worth millions.”
“I’m not going to be famous.”
“You keep saying that. I keep disagreeing.”
They stood in the quiet nursery, both knowing the baby would be here soon. That everything was about to change.
“I’m scared,” Julia admitted. “What if I’m terrible at this?”
“You won’t be.”
“How can you know?”
“Because you care this much. Because you’ve read all the books and organized all the things and thought about what kind of parent you want to be. That’s what makes someone good at this.”
Julia looked at him. “Are you scared?”
“Terrified.”
“Good. We can be terrified together.”
Knox reached for her hand—tentative, giving her space to pull away. She didn’t.
“We’re going to figure this out,” he said. “Co-parenting, boundaries, all of it. It’ll be messy and complicated, but we’ll figure it out.”
“You sound very certain.”
“I’m not. But I’m committed. There’s a difference.”
Julia squeezed his hand. “Ten days. Maybe less if this baby decides to come early.”
“Are you ready?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Julia laughed shakily. “Ask me again in ten days.”
Knox stayed until Julia fell asleep on the couch around nine. He covered her with a blanket, left a note, and headed home.
Ten days until the due date.
Ten days until Knox became a father.
Ten days until everything changed.
He was terrified.
But he was ready.
Or at least as ready as anyone could be for something that would completely transform their life.
Knox went home and finished reading his fifteenth parenting book.
Just in case.
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