Kingsley gazed down on the boy in the crib in his pale blue-and-white footie pajamas. He had a swath of pale blond hair on his small head, his mother’s bright blue eyes and a solemn expression on his face. Such a serious look on such a little boy. Kingsley almost laughed at him.

“May I?” Kingsley asked, not looking at Grace. He couldn’t take his eyes off Fionn.

“Of course,” Grace said. “He likes being held.”

Kingsley gently lifted the boy out of his crib and cradled him against his chest. Grace gave him a soft blue blanket that Kingsley draped over Fionn’s head and back.

“You’re good at this,” Grace said. “But you have more practice than I do.”

Kingsley smiled but didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t speak. Not a word.

Kingsley laughed, and Grace, without a moment’s hesitation, raised her hand to his face and wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“Merci,” he whispered and pressed a kiss on to the top of Fionn’s head. He smelled like a baby, like his own Céleste. The clean scent of lavender soap and innocence. “Fionn and I have something in common.”

“And what is that?” Grace asked.

“We’re both alive because of Søren.”

“Yes. I suppose you both are.” Grace touched his face again, wiped off another tear. Kingsley laughed at himself. “You’re doing better than Nora did the first time she held him. She made it about three seconds before handing him back to me and bursting into tears in Zachary’s arms. He teased her mercilessly about it.”

“He’s beautiful. No wonder she cried.”

“She and Zachary talked a long time about Fionn,” Grace continued. “The two of them can talk for hours.”

“What did they talk about?” Kingsley asked, patting Fionn on the back.

“Nora being Fionn’s godmother.”

“I thought she was already.”

“She is. But Zachary and I talked and considering everything...”

“You mean you want her to be his legal guardian?”

“Yes. If something happens to me and Zachary, we want her to have Fionn. She hasn’t said yes to that yet.”

“She wouldn’t say yes to it.”

“Zachary’s wearing her down.”

“I thought he had a brother?”

“He does, and I have siblings, too, parents... But God forbid, I want him to go to Nora and so does Zachary. I want him to be with someone who knows the truth about him, someone who knows where he came from, and will love him because of it, not in spite of it.”

And Fionn would be close to Søren, which Grace didn’t say. But she didn’t have to.

“She doesn’t trust herself enough. But I can’t think of anyone better to raise him if something happened,” Kingsley said, and meant the words.

“Neither can we.”

“I’ll talk to her about it,” Kingsley said.

“Would you? Please?” Grace asked. “Tomorrow’s his first birthday. I can’t believe my baby is already a year old.”

“I still can’t believe he’s even here,” Kingsley said, holding Fionn a little tighter. The boy didn’t seem to mind. He’d fallen back asleep and was quietly drooling on Kingsley’s shirt. Nothing he wasn’t used to by now. “I never imagined... But who would? He’s a priest.”

Grace smiled, and a soft blush appeared on her face.

“I don’t know what came over me when I asked him,” Grace said.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” Kingsley said. “It’s between you and him.”

“But I need to tell someone. I didn’t cheat on my husband. He gave me permission to go have fun, as he said. No rules. Anything I wanted or needed. I’d been depressed and he knew it. Nora helped him. He thought she could help me.”

“Nora has unusual methods for helping people in need. But they do work.”

“They do. In that moment...” Grace began again, “I felt the rightness of it. And I knew if I didn’t say something, if I didn’t ask, I’d regret it the rest of my life. Now? I have a son. We have a son.”

“We’re all...” Kingsley paused and swallowed hard. In a low voice he said, “We were all very happy.”

It was an embarrassing failure of words—we were all very happy. Shell-shocked by elation would have been a better description of how they’d all felt when they heard Søren had a son. The news was like a bomb going off, and the blast of joy had felled them all.

Kingsley bent his head and whispered to Fionn.

“I know your father,” Kingsley said in French, a private message between him and Fionn. “He’s everything to me. You are blessed to be a part of him. If the day ever comes you don’t feel blessed to be his, you come see me, and I’ll tell you why you are.”

Kingsley kissed the top of Fionn’s head. His heart clenched so tightly, his chest hurt. No wonder he’d sought after pain all his life. It felt just like love.

“Did he really tell you that? That his friend Magdalena had said he’d have a child by the grace of God?”

“He did. And she did tell me he and I would be lovers again. Real prophecy? Or self-fulfilling? It happened. That’s what matters.”

“That morning...” Grace began and paused. “Can I talk about it?”