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T he scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine filled the air as Lewis sat in a wicker chair, fingers curled around the delicate porcelain handle of a teacup. Wisps of steam curled toward the glass ceiling of the royal greenhouse, the heat of the tea warming his hands. Sunlight streamed through the expanse of glass and metal, casting patterns of gold across the rough stone floor.

This wasn’t Verdance. He wasn’t scrambling for survival in the rainforest. He was in Vantner.

"What the fu?—"

"Daddy!"

A small blur launched into his lap, knocking the breath from his lungs. Tiny arms wrapped around his neck, squeezing tight.

Lewis’ entire body went rigid. He looked down to find a child, a boy. No older than five, with his same light brown hair, a mischievous grin, and green eyes. Not mine or Vivienne’s blue eyes.

A second small figure stumbled toward him, teetering on pudgy legs. A toddler with a mess of dark curling hair and golden-brown eyes identical to his own reached out, grasping his knee for balance.

Lewis’ mouth went dry. He knew every inch of the royal gardens and greenhouse, but this? I do not remember planting those. His brain had hardly begun processing when another voice drifted through the greenhouse.

“Sorry, honey. The sprouts are much faster than me these days.”

Bianca Kopfkino?

She swept through the doorway, a vision of elegance, a ruby red gown cascading down her frame. She tickled the boy’s sides, earning a squeal of laughter. “You two little rascals interrupted Daddy’s work, didn’t you?”

The children giggled and squirmed in her embrace, their delight reverberating off the glass walls. Biana kissed each of their foreheads before waving toward an older woman standing just outside the door. “Go with Nanny Kate,” she instructed. “Mommy needs a turn with Daddy.”

He would have been less shocked if the children had grown wings and flown away. Instead, he sat frozen, watching them disappear beyond the doorway. The moment the door clicked shut, Bianca turned back to him with a slow, warm smile. She slid into his lap, her fingers tracing idle circles over his chest. Lewis wasn’t sure if he was still breathing.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her voice a silk ribbon curling around his senses. Then she kissed him. Not a chaste brush of lips—a deep, searing kiss, full of heat and familiarity.

His stomach flipped, his mind careening into chaos. This isn’t happening. Except it is.

Bianca pulled away, searching his face. “You’ve been cooped up in here all week.” She pouted. “And we only have a few more months before things get even crazier.”

She took his hand, guiding it gently to rest against her stomach. Lewis blinked, hard. His palm pressed against the soft curve of her belly—rounder than he had ever seen it before. A tiny series of kicks reached out from beneath his fingertips.

“I think this one’s a dancer,” she whispered, grinning. “We’re about to be outnumbered.

Lewis’ eyes snapped to his left hand. A gold wedding band glinted, its delicate vine engravings encircling his finger like ivy. Holy shit. I’m married to Bianca and we’re expecting a third child. I guess I did plant those. His pulse thundered in his ears. This had to be a dream, a hallucination, something.

He struggled to find words, but his brain latched onto a single, desperate question. To the one person he was hoping could explain all of this. “Have you seen Vivienne?”

Bianca’s posture locked. The warmth in her bright green eyes iced over, her smile wilting like a flower caught in a frost.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered, untangling herself from his lap. “You promised me, Lewis.”

His brows knitted together. “What are you talking about?”

Bianca pressed a trembling hand to her temple and huffed a pointed exhale. “I can’t have this argument again.”

“What argument?” he demanded, rising from the chair.

She whirled to face him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “For gods’ sakes, you haven’t seen her in years, and yet there are three people in this marriage.” Her voice wavered. “I know how much you loved her, but we’ve been married for eight years. Every time you bring her up, I feel like I was your second choice.”

Her breath caught on a forming sob. She took a step closer, resting her hands on his chest. “You have my heart, Lewis. You’ve had it since our first dance at the Harvest Moon Festival all those years ago. I love you.”

The Harvest Moon festival. The night they danced together and fell into bed for the first time. A single night of what could have been before he left for the islands. But to her, it had been something more, a beginning of a life together.

Lewis felt the ground shifting below him, his understanding of reality fracturing into jagged shards. Bianca looked at him as though he’d been by her side for a decade. As though he had always belonged in this life. Yet, he wasn’t the man who had lived these memories with her.

He took too long to respond.

Bianca’s expression crumpled, her voice breaking. “You have… nothing to say to me?”

He reached for her, but she stepped back, blinking rapidly, trying to hold herself together.

“I know you love me,” she whispered. “But I’ll never be enough for you.” Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “Because I’ll never be her.”

“Bianca, I?—”

She turned on her heel and strode to the door. With a sharp slam, she was gone. The impact rattled the greenhouse, sending several pots tumbling to the ground, shattering into jagged pieces.

Lewis stood there, drowning in the weight of a life had never lived and a love he worried he’d never have.