"You heard me. You will not come into this room and insult the mother of my child. You will not throw money at a problem that isn't a problem. And you will not—" His voice dropped, deadly quiet. "You will not ever call my daughter illegitimate again."
"Sebastian, you're being irrational."
"No. For the first time in my life, I'm being completely rational." Sebastian moved to stand with Nora. "Lily is my daughter. I know it without a paternity test, though we can do one if it makes you feel better. But it won't change anything. She's mine. And Nora is—" He stopped, looking at Nora, at the woman who'd tried to tell him, who'd carried his child alone, who'd built a life out of nothing because he'd been too weak to listen. "Nora's under my protection. Both of them are. And if you can't accept that, if you can't treat them with respect, then you and I are going to have a very different relationship going forward."
Catherine's face had gone rigid. "You would choose them over your own family?"
"They are my family." The words came easily, felt right in a way nothing had in years. "Lily is my daughter. That makes her your granddaughter, whether you acknowledge it or not."
From the bedroom, a small voice called out: "Mama? Mama, where?"
Lily. Awake and confused, probably frightened by the raised voices. Nora moved immediately, but Catherine was closer to the bedroom door. She stepped into the doorway and for the first time saw Lily clearly.
The little girl sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes, her dark curls disheveled from sleep. When she saw the stranger in the doorway, she shrank back slightly. "Mama," she said again, smaller this time.
Catherine stood frozen, staring at the child.
Sebastian watched his mother's face, saw recognition flicker across it as she took in Lily's features: the eyes that were undeniably his, the determined set of her jaw, the way she tilted her head, assessing.
"Well," Catherine said finally, her voice strange. "She certainly has the Hale eyes."
Nora pushed past her to scoop up Lily, holding her protectively. "It's okay, baby. Just some visitors."
Lily buried her face in Nora's shoulder, one eye peeking out to watch Catherine warily.
"How old?" Catherine asked.
"17 months," Sebastian answered.
Catherine did the mental calculation, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I see."
"Do you?" Sebastian challenged. "Do you see that I missed 17 months of her life? That Nora tried to tell me and I blocked her because I was following your advice about clean breaks and unsuitable attachments?"
"Sebastian—"
"No. You need to hear this." He moved to stand with Nora and Lily, presenting a united front. "I made mistakes. Huge ones. I let you influence my decisions, let you convince me that someone's worth was measured by their bank account or social connections. But I'm done with that. Done letting you control my life."
Catherine's composure cracked slightly. "I'm your mother. I only want what's best for you."
"What's best for me," Sebastian said quietly, "is standing right here. And you either accept that or you leave."
The silence stretched between them, heavy with years of manipulation and control finally hitting a wall. Catherine straightened her suit jacket, her expression closing off. "I see I'm not welcome here."
"You're welcome to meet your granddaughter. To apologize to Nora for the things you've said. To be part of our lives." Sebastian's voice softened slightly. "But only if you can do it with respect. I won't subject either of them to your judgment."
Catherine looked at Lily one more time, at her granddaughter watching her with Sebastian's eyes and a stranger's caution. "I need time," she said finally. "This is unexpected."
"Take all the time you need." Sebastian opened the door for her. "But when you're ready, you know where to find us."
Catherine left without another word, her heels clicking sharply down the hallway.
The door closed. The silence that followed felt profound.
Lily lifted her head from Nora's shoulder. "Loud lady gone?"
"Yeah, baby," Nora said softly. "The loud lady is gone."
Lily looked at Sebastian, reaching for him. "Dada stay?"
Sebastian took his daughter into his arms, feeling the rightness of it settle into his bones. "Yes, sweetheart," he said, pressing a kiss to her dark curls. "Dada's staying."
After Catherine left, the room felt both emptier and somehow fuller. Sebastian sat on the floor with Lily, building a tower of blocks that she delighted in knocking down. Each crash was followed by squeals of laughter that made his chest ache with joy and regret in equal measure.
Nora had retreated to the small kitchenette area, making tea she didn't seem to be drinking. Sebastian watched her from the corner of his eye, the tension in her shoulders, the way she gripped the counter like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
"Again, Dada," Lily commanded, handing him another block.
Sebastian stacked it carefully. "How high should we make it this time?"
"Big!" Lily stretched her arms wide. "This big!"
"That's pretty big. I don't know if we have enough blocks."
Lily considered this problem with utmost seriousness, then toddled to her toy basket and began excavating every block she could find. She returned with arms full, dumping them unceremoniously in Sebastian's lap.
"More blocks," she announced proudly.