"Dad Prescott, do you know how to fight?"
"How did you know?"
"I could just tell!" Zane said proudly.
"Wow, you're a smart kid, young Mr. Prescott. I've never met a kid as clever as you. How did you figure that out without me telling you?"
Zane puffed out his chest. "That's because I'm my mom's son. The kid my mom raises is the best!"
Yves couldn't help but glance at Winona in the rearview mirror. Her gaze, full of adoration and warmth, was fixed entirely on Zane. He could see that in the six-year-old's world, his mother was the most brilliant person alive. And Winona, in turn, loved the boy as if he were her own flesh and blood.
For a moment, Yves felt a pang of envy for Zane, for being the recipient of Winona's love.
Life was strange. Three months ago, before he knew her, he genuinely thought she was the worst kind of woman. But after getting to know her, layer by layer, he discovered more and more of her strengths. This version of her was undeniably captivating.
Winona noticed him looking at her in the mirror. She met his eyes and offered a gentle, reserved smile.
Yves was momentarily stunned, nearly missing their turn.
It was Zane who called out, "Dad Prescott, we're at the kindergarten!"
He quickly pulled over.
After Winona got her car, she intended to say goodbye, but Zane insisted on riding with "Dad Prescott." Besides, the trunk of Yves's car was full of toys he had bought for him. Winona couldn't win the argument, so she let Zane go with Yves while she drove back to her apartment alone.
"Dad Prescott, you should come up and see our home! It's small, but it's really, really nice. Come on up!" When they arrived, Zane, acting like the man of the house, eagerly invited Yves inside.


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