Updated Dec 2, 2025 • ~8 min read
Knox arrived at Julia’s apartment at seven with a bottle of sparkling cider and a bouquet of flowers from the corner market. He was halfway through knocking when the door swung open—but it wasn’t Julia.
The woman standing there was petite, professionally dressed, and regarding Knox with the kind of scrutiny usually reserved for suspect crime scenes.
“Knox Barrow,” she said. Not a question. A statement of fact.
“That’s me. And you’re—”
“Cailyn Dahl. Julia’s assistant.” She didn’t move from the doorway. “We haven’t officially met, though I ran your background check.”
“Right. The criminal record I don’t have.”
“Among other things.” Cailyn’s gaze was sharp, assessing. “Julia’s in the kitchen, attempting to rescue the lasagna. I’ve been ordered to entertain you, which I’m interpreting as ‘make sure you’re not a serial killer.'”
“I promise I’m not.”
“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.”
Knox couldn’t help but laugh. “Fair point.”
Cailyn finally stepped aside, letting him enter. “Julia talks about you constantly. The art she wants to commission from you. The gallery connections you’ll need. How talented you are. It’s frankly exhausting.”
“Sorry?”
“Don’t be. I haven’t seen her this happy in years.” Cailyn’s expression softened slightly. “Maybe ever. Which is why I’m going to be very direct with you: Julia is seven months pregnant, about to be a single mother, and in the most vulnerable position of her life. If you’re not serious about this—about her—walk away now before she gets more attached.”
The words hit Knox like a punch to the gut. “I’m serious.”
“Are you? Because from where I’m standing, this all happened very fast. Three weeks ago, you were a stranger. Now you’re having dinner at her apartment, meeting her assistant, getting integrated into her life.”
“I care about her.”
“I’m sure you do. But caring isn’t enough when there’s a baby involved.” Cailyn crossed her arms. “I’ve worked for Julia for three years. I’ve watched men pursue her for her money, her name, her connections. They all cared too—until things got complicated. Until she wasn’t fun anymore, or the media attention was too much, or their ego couldn’t handle being with someone more successful.”
“I’m not those guys.”
“Prove it.” Cailyn’s gaze was unflinching. “Prove you’re not going to disappear the second things get hard. Prove you can handle a baby that isn’t yours. Prove Julia can actually trust you.”
Knox wanted to argue. Wanted to defend himself. But how could he when he was actively lying about the most fundamental fact of their relationship?
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, forcing conviction into his voice.
Cailyn studied him for another long moment, then nodded slowly. “Good. Because if you hurt her, I will make your life extremely difficult. I know people. People who can make things happen.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m making a promise.” Cailyn’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “But I’m rooting for you, Knox. Really. Julia deserves someone who sees her as more than a trophy or a career opportunity. Someone who actually cares about who she is. If that’s you, we’ll get along great.”
Before Knox could respond, Julia emerged from the kitchen, flushed and wearing an apron covered in tomato sauce.
“Knox! You’re here! And Cailyn’s terrorizing you, I see.”
“Just getting acquainted,” Cailyn said smoothly. “I’ll leave you two to your dinner. Julia, remember you have the board meeting tomorrow at nine.”
“I know, I know. I’ll review the presentation tonight.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll be distracted.” Cailyn glanced pointedly at Knox. “Which is fine. Just don’t stay up too late.”
After Cailyn left, Julia turned to Knox with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about her. She’s protective.”
“It’s sweet. You’re lucky to have someone who cares that much.”
“I am.” Julia kissed him quickly. “Come on, I need you to tell me if this lasagna is salvageable or if we’re ordering pizza.”
The lasagna was actually delicious, which Knox told Julia repeatedly as they ate at her dining table overlooking the city.
“I can’t believe you doubted yourself,” Knox said. “This is incredible.”
“My mom’s recipe. One of the only things I remember her teaching me before she died.” Julia’s voice went soft. “I haven’t made it in years. But I was craving it, and I thought—I want my baby to grow up with this. With family recipes and traditions.”
Knox’s throat went tight. “That’s beautiful.”
“Or sentimental and silly.”
“Both. But mostly beautiful.”
They talked through dinner, the conversation flowing easily like it always did. Julia told him about the board meeting tomorrow—some shareholders were pushing back on her expansion plans. Knox told her about the commission piece, how the client wanted something bold but the building’s aesthetic was minimalist.
It felt domestic. Real. Like they’d been doing this for years instead of weeks.
After dinner, they moved to the couch, and Julia pulled up her laptop. “Okay, so I’ve been doing research on baby monitors and I’m completely overwhelmed. There are video ones, audio ones, ones that track breathing, ones that play music. How is anyone supposed to choose?”
Knox found himself genuinely invested in the monitor debate. They spent twenty minutes comparing features, reading reviews, debating the necessity of breathing sensors.
“This is insane,” Julia laughed. “I’m a CEO. I make million-dollar decisions daily. But baby monitors are defeating me.”
“Because the stakes are higher,” Knox said. “Business is just money. This is your kid.”
Julia looked at him then, something shifting in her expression. “You get it. Most people don’t, but you really get it.”
“Get what?”
“Why I’m so terrified. Why this feels bigger than anything I’ve ever done.” She touched her stomach absently. “Everyone keeps telling me I’ll be a natural, that I can handle anything. But what if I can’t? What if I’m terrible at this?”
Knox took her hand. “You won’t be. You’re already thinking about family recipes and traditions and creating a space full of love. That’s what matters.”
“You’re really okay with all this? The baby stuff?”
It was the second time someone had asked him that today, and Knox’s answer was the same—truth wrapped in omission.
“I’m okay with all of you,” he said. “Baby included.”
Julia kissed him then, soft and sweet, and Knox tried not to think about Cailyn’s warning. About proving himself trustworthy while actively deceiving the woman he was falling for.
They spent the rest of the evening curled on the couch, watching terrible reality TV that Julia claimed was a guilty pleasure. At some point, Julia fell asleep with her head on Knox’s shoulder, and Knox found himself absently rubbing her baby bump, feeling the occasional kick against his palm.
His phone buzzed quietly. A text from an unknown number: This is Cailyn. I’m watching you. Don’t make me regret giving Julia my approval.
Knox stared at the message, his heart sinking. Because Cailyn was right to be suspicious. Right to warn him. Right to question his motives.
She just didn’t know how right she was.
Knox looked down at Julia, sleeping peacefully against him, her hand resting over his on her stomach. The baby kicked again—stronger this time—and Knox felt that familiar ache of longing and guilt.
This should be simple, he thought. I should be able to just love her. To be excited about this baby. To build a life together without all these secrets.
But nothing about this situation was simple.
His phone buzzed again. Aaron this time: How’s dinner?
Knox typed one-handed, careful not to wake Julia: Complicated.
Aaron: Did you tell her?
Knox looked at Julia’s sleeping face. At the trust written in her relaxed features. At the life they were building on a foundation of his lies.
Knox: No.
Aaron: You’re going to have to eventually.
Knox: I know.
But not tonight. Not when Julia was sleeping peacefully in his arms. Not when he could still pretend this was real and uncomplicated and right.
Tomorrow. He’d figure it out tomorrow.
Except tomorrow came, and Knox still didn’t tell her.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
And with each passing day, the secret grew heavier, the lies more entrenched, until Knox could barely remember what truth felt like.
But he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t walk away. Couldn’t do anything except fall deeper in love with Julia Adams and the baby that was his in every biological sense but no other way that mattered.
Cailyn was watching.
Aaron was warning him.
His own conscience was screaming.
But Knox kept quiet.
Because the alternative—losing Julia—was unthinkable.
Even if keeping her meant destroying them both.
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