Chapter 1791:


    “You can call him Alban,” Gillian added.


    A dull ache moved through Alban’s chest, quiet and unhurried. In his own daughter’s eyes, he was simply a stranger.


    “Hello, Alban,” Adide said first, her voice soft and easy, offering him a small smile as she waited.


    Whatever tension had been wound through him began, slowly, to loosen. Something warm settled in its ce, deep and genuine.


    He understood it would take time — that earning a ce in her world was not something that could be rushed, and he was prepared to wait for however long it required.


    “Hello, Adide,” he said gently, settling into the chair beside her bed and looking at her with a quiet, careful affection. “You’re a very well-mannered young girl.”


    More than once, he felt the impulse to reach out and take her small hand. Each time, he stopped himself, his fingers curling back. He was afraid of moving too quickly — afraid that the wrong gesture might startle her and make him seem like someone she should be wary of. Being near Adide felt like being trusted with something irreceable. He didn’t want to do anything to break it.


    “You seem nice too, Alban,” Adide said, her voice light and sincere.


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    Alban went still. He wasn’t sure what the right response was — how to behave, what tone to strike, what version of himself to offer her. The thoughts came in too quickly and then dissolved into nothing.


    They looked at each other for a moment before he found something to say. “What do you like?”


    Adide blinked at him. “I like Mommy,” she said, without hesitation. “And Miss Jones.”


    It wasn’t the answer he had been reaching for, though he supposed the question had been vague enough that almost any answer would have been reasonable. He smiled past the slight awkwardness of it.


    “What I meant was — what do you like to eat? Or what kinds of toys? I’d be happy to get you whatever you’d like.”


    “Thank you, Alban,” Adide said politely, her expression genuinely grateful. “I already have lots of snacks and plenty of toys. You don’t need to bring me anything.”


    He tried again, adjusting his approach. “Then where would you like to go? When you’re feeling better, I could take you somewhere fun.”


    Adide considered this seriously for a moment, then looked up at him with a small, apologetic tilt of her head. “Thank you, Alban. But Mommy, Miss Jones, and Henrik are already taking me out. We made ns.” She held his gaze with wide, earnest eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t go with you.”


    She watched his face carefully after she said it — looking for signs that she had hurt his feelings, that he was angry or disappointed. There was something a little pitiful about the expression he wore, and it made her feel genuinely sorry.


    Alban was disappointed. He couldn’t quite help it. But when he looked at Adide’s face — the worry in it, the care she was already showing for someone she had just met — something in his chest tightened in a different way.


    He pulled himself together and kept his voice gentle. “That’s perfectly alright. I can wait. Once you’ve finished your other ns, perhaps we could go out then — your mommy coulde too, if she’d like. How does that sound?”


    Gillian had already drawn breath to decline. She had no desire to spend time with Alban under any circumstances. But before she could say a word, she caught the look on Adide’s face — bright and hopeful, already turning toward her.


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