The SUV speeded up as we approached the highway.

The tires hummed against the wet asphalt.

“I don’t want a single dollar of Harrington money for the boys,” I said. “My salary and this grant are more than enough to provide for them. They will go to good schools, and they will live in a safe home, paid for by me.”

Blake looked down at his own hands.

His knuckles were white.

“I respect that,” he said.

“Do you?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “You have built your own life. I have no right to interfere with it.”

He turned his head to look out the window.

The city skyline was fading behind us as we headed toward the airfield.

“I don’t want custody, Emma,” he said quietly.

I turned to look at him.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I don’t want to fight you for them,” he said. “I don’t want to split their lives in half with court dates and lawyers.”

“Then what do you want?” I asked.

“I want to be in their lives,” he said. “If you will let me. But on your terms.”