Jefferson's POV
Her mouth opened slightly, words seeming to catch in her throat before they could form. Those green eyes of hers held a mixture of emotions I couldn't quite decipher - maybe hope, maybe disbelief, maybe something else entirely. They stayed fixed on mine.
She was struggling to understand what I'd just told her.
And I understood why. I knew exactly what those words meant. This wasn't some spur-of-the-moment declaration. It was a promise I'd made to myself years ago, carved into stone during those dark nights when I swore I would never repeat my father's mistakes. Nothing could shake that resolve.
"Not even one child?"
Her question came out barely above a whisper, tentative yet tinged with longing that cut straight through me. I exhaled slowly, running my fingers through my hair, feeling the familiar burden of leadership weighing heavier than usual.
