---- Chapter 41 Michael, as "Martin," walked into the sitting room, his hands trembling slightly. Liv was standing by the window, holding Finn, who was wrapped snugly in a soft blue blanket. She turned as he entered, a polite smile on her face. "Martin, thank you for coming. | wanted to thank you personally for the wonderful meals. You've been very kind." Her voice, so familiar, so loved, washed over him. He couldn't speak. He could only stare at her, at his son in her arms. Liv's smile faltered, a flicker of unease in her eyes at his silence, his intense gaze. "Martin?" she prompted gently. He had to say something. He had to break the spell. He slowly reached up and removed the glasses. Then, his hand went to the rough beard, pulling it away. Liv gasped, her eyes widening in profound shock, then dawning horror. "Michael?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Fear, raw and immediate, flashed across her face. She clutched Finn tighter, instinctively backing away. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?" ---- "Liv, please," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "Let me explain." "Explain?" Her voice rose, laced with disgust and a renewed anger. "Explain how you stalked me? How you infiltrated my home, my life, again?" "| had to see you," he pleaded. "I had to know you were okay. And the baby..." "Finn," she corrected, her voice like ice. "His name is Finn Hayes." "Our son," Michael whispered, his eyes pleading. Liv's expression hardened. "You think this... this deception... makes you a father? You lost that right, Michael. You lost it when you chose her. When you betrayed me. When you lied." She took a step closer, her eyes blazing. "You want to know about the abortion, Michael? The one | told you about? It was a lie." He stared at her, hope and confusion warring on his face. "| lied to hurt you," Liv continued, her voice cold, precise. "To make you feel a fraction of the pain you caused me. | wanted you to suffer. And you did, didn't you?" He nodded, dumbly. The cruelty of her confession, the calculated nature of her revenge, it was another blow. But it also meant... "Finn is alive," he breathed. "Our son." "My son," she corrected sharply. "And he will never know you as his father. You will have no part in his life." Her words were absolute, a final, irrevocable judgment. ---- "| don't love you, Michael," she said, each word a hammer blow. "| don't think | ever truly did. | loved an idea of you, an idea you expertly crafted. The man standing before me now... | feel nothing but contempt for him." Utter defeat washed over Michael. This was it. The final rejection. More brutal, more complete, than he could have ever imagined. He had hoped for a sliver of forgiveness, a chance, however small. There was nothing. Only her disgust, her fear, her absolute, unwavering hatred. He sank to his knees, broken. "| understand," he whispered. He deserved this. Alll of it