Song for this chapter: Myla - Under The Same Moon on the multimedia.

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| P r e s e n t |

Juls

It was Monday, my one day off, and I woke up feeling the familiar ache in my back from sleeping on the couch again. I stretched, wincing slightly as I sat up, the morning sun filtering through the curtains, casting a soft light across the apartment. The city outside was already starting to hum, but inside, everything felt still and quiet.

I glanced toward my bedroom door, still closed. Sign and Ivy were sleeping in there, and the thought of them resting peacefully in my space filled me with a warmth I couldn't quite explain. I wasn't used to this—having them here—but it felt right, natural even, in a way that surprised me.

I shuffled into the kitchen, keeping my steps light. The last thing I wanted was to wake them up. I started on breakfast, cracking eggs into the pan, the familiar hiss of the skillet mixing with the comforting aroma of coffee brewing. The smell of breakfast slowly filled the room, and I moved through the motions with ease, letting the quiet of the morning settle over me.

As I stirred the eggs, I couldn't help but think about how much had changed since Sign came back into my life and I met Ivy. Today felt different—calmer, slower—and I found myself wanting to hold on to this moment just a little longer before the day began in full. A small smile tugged at my lips. Whatever came next, I was grateful for this—this rare, quiet morning with them close by.

Ivy's soft footsteps padded across the wooden floor, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned around, and there she was, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists, her hair a tousled mess. If I thought she was cute before, her 'just woke up' look was something else entirely. I couldn't help but smile as she blinked up at me, looking a little disoriented but still so sweet.

"Morning, Ivy," I greeted her quietly, careful not to wake Sign. "Do you like milk?"

She nodded with a shy smile, her sleepy face lighting up just a bit. I poured a glass and handed it to her. Ivy's eyes lit up as she took the glass, and it struck me how simple acts like this could mean so much. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice still carrying the drowsiness of sleep.

"No problem," I said, watching her sit at the table, kicking her legs back and forth as she sipped. "Your mom's still sleeping, huh?"

Ivy nodded again, the corners of her mouth lifting into a small smile. "Mommy always does everything for me," she said between sips, her eyes wide with wonder as she watched me cook. "You're really nice, you know that?"

I chuckled, flipping the eggs. "Well, I try. Do you think your mom will like breakfast?"

"Yeah," she said thoughtfully, then looked up at me with a curious expression. "Do you have a wife?"

I paused for a moment, then smiled and shook my head. "Nope, no wife. But I do have a girlfriend. Her name's Nat, and I think you'll like her. She was actually at the restaurant last Christmas Eve—maybe you didn't notice, but a lot of people were asking her for pictures."

Ivy's eyes widened slightly, clearly impressed. "Really? Wow... she's lucky to have you."

Her words caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through my chest. "Thanks, Ivy. That's really sweet of you to say."

Ivy took another sip of her milk, her brow furrowing in thought. "I hope my mommy meets someone like you one day," she said softly, her voice tinged with a childlike sincerity. "Someone who's kind and can make her happy. Someone who can make things easier for her."

Her words hung in the air, and I felt a quiet weight settle in my chest. I smiled at her, but there was a part of me that couldn't shake the thought that maybe, in some way, I was meant to be that person for Sign—not in the way Ivy imagined, but as someone who could be there for them both.

As soon as Sign woke up, stretching and blinking away the sleep, I gave her a soft smile. "Good morning. If you need to head out for work, I can look after Ivy for a bit."

She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "I already told Claire I wouldn't make it today. Thought I'd spend the day with Ivy."

"That works too," I said, turning to Ivy who was now fully awake and engrossed in her milk. "You two can stay as long as you want."

But Sign sighed, her voice apologetic. "We've gotta head home after breakfast. I need to bring Ivy to school."

I nodded, understanding, though part of me had hoped they'd stay a little longer. I liked having them around—it brought a sense of warmth to the place.

After we finished breakfast and got ready to leave, the moment we opened the door, we were met with a flood of cameras, flashing relentlessly in our faces. A wall of reporters stood in the hallway, their voices blending into a cacophony of questions and demands. The suddenness of it made us all freeze, and I instinctively shielded Ivy from the commotion as Sign quickly pulled the door closed.

"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath, my heart racing.

Sign looked as confused as I was, her face pale. "What are they doing here?"

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. It was Tony. I quickly answered.

"Juls, man, you need to check the news and social media," Tony's voice was serious, and the urgency in his tone made my stomach drop. I was not in the mood to talk longer, so I immediately ended the call.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, flipping to the news. There it was—a photo of me, Sign, and Ivy from last night at the restaurant, plastered across the screen. The headline read something about me being Ivy's father, and social media was flooded with speculation. The paparazzi had spun the narrative completely out of control.

Sign's face paled even further as she looked over my shoulder. "Oh my God," she whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. "What do we do now?"

As the media frenzy outside the apartment continued, I watched Sign's face shift from confusion to concern. It was clear this was overwhelming for her. I knew it was time to have a difficult conversation, one I had hoped to avoid but couldn't any longer.

With a steadying breath, I turned to Ivy. "Hey, Ivy," I said gently, "why don't you go to my room and watch a movie for a bit? I need to talk to your mom."

Ivy, sensing the seriousness of the situation, nodded without complaint and scurried off, clutching her stuffed toy. I waited until the door clicked shut before facing Sign again.

"Sign," I said gently, trying to keep my tone calm and reassuring, "you need to call Linc."

Her reaction was immediate and intense. She stiffened, her arms crossing defensively. "Juls, no," she said, shaking her head. "That's a bad idea. I can't call him. I shouldn't reach out to him."

I took a deep breath, knowing this was crucial. "He left me his number on Valentine's Day for a reason. This situation with the media—it's only going to get worse. You've got to talk to him, especially because he's Ivy's father. You can't keep running from this."

Her eyes were full of distress, and she shook her head vehemently. "I can't just... call him. It's too complicated, and he doesn't even know about Ivy. I... I don't think it's right to drag him into this."

I could see how torn she was, how deeply conflicted she felt. "I get it, Sign. I really do. But look at what's happening now. People are talking, and you can't shield Ivy from this forever. Linc needs to know. If the media is already spinning stories, it's better for him to hear it from you than through gossip."

Her shoulders sagged, and she seemed to shrink under the weight of the situation. "I'll... think about it," she said softly, almost as if she was trying to convince herself more than me.

I nodded, understanding how hard this must be for her. "Okay. Just... please think about it seriously. Ivy deserves to know her father, and Linc deserves to know about his daughter."

As she nodded absently, I felt a mix of frustration and sympathy. I wanted to help, but I knew ultimately it was up to Sign to make the call. For now, we had to navigate this storm together.

I quickly dialed Tony's number, hoping he'd be able to help us out of this mess. As soon as he picked up, I didn't waste any time.

"Tony, we've got a media circus outside my apartment. Any chance you can make them disappear?"

Tony's voice crackled with its usual blend of humor and exasperation. "Ah, Juls! You're always dragging me into these delightful messes. Let me see what I can do. I'll try to persuade them to take their cameras and go find another shiny object."

I could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "Tony, I'm serious. This is getting out of hand."

"Seriously, I'm on it," he said, still chuckling. "But if I fail, maybe you could try dressing up as a circus clown and distract them. Or, you know, I'll see if I can find a way to shoo them away. Just give me a few."

"Thanks, Tony," I said, shaking my head despite the situation. "I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it. And if they ask, I'm not responsible for any circus-themed shenanigans you might end up involved in."

With that, Tony hung up, leaving me with a mix of relief and a small chuckle. I knew he'd do his best, and somehow, his ability to lighten the mood in the face of chaos was oddly comforting.

I glanced over and noticed Sign staring intently at Linc's business card, her fingers tracing the edges as if hoping it would provide some clarity. The weight of the situation seemed to be pressing down on her, and I could see the indecision in her eyes.

Out of nowhere, she muttered, "I wish Ivy had her father's blue eyes. It would've made things... different."

I raised an eyebrow, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. "What do you mean?"

Sign looked up, her expression a mix of contemplation and resignation. "In a way, it's fortunate she got my brown eyes instead. With everything that's happening right now, it's almost a relief that she doesn't have a direct link to him—especially with all this media attention."

I nodded, understanding the subtext of her words. The media frenzy outside was relentless, and she was grappling with the implications of potentially involving Linc. In the midst of all this chaos, it made sense that she'd find solace in the small things—like Ivy's eye color—providing a semblance of normalcy amidst the storm.

I watched as Sign's gaze remained fixed on the business card, her thoughts clearly miles away. "I wonder how Linc is handling all of this," she said quietly, more to herself than to me. "I wonder if he's okay. What's he thinking about the news? How's he dealing with everything?"

Her voice was laced with concern, and I could see the worry etched into her features. She seemed genuinely troubled by the thought of Linc being dragged into this mess, and it struck me how deeply she cared, despite the complexity of their relationship.

"Yeah, I get it," I said, trying to offer some reassurance. "It's tough when things spiral out of control like this, especially for someone who wasn't expecting it. But whatever he's feeling, we can only hope he's handling it well. I know it's hard, but you should focus on what's best for Ivy and yourself right now."

Sign nodded, her mind clearly racing with a mix of emotions. "I know," she replied. "It's just... I can't help but wonder how he's coping."

I could see the internal conflict in her eyes, torn between her own concerns and the responsibility she felt toward Linc. It was a tough spot to be in, and I knew she was trying to navigate it as best as she could.