The door clicks shut behind him before you can say a word. Rowan leans against it, arms crossed, filling the frame like he's always belonged there. The hallway light bleeds under the door — the only reminder the rest of the house still exists. He's not angry. That would be easier. His voice is low, steady, certain in a way that settles in your chest whether you want it to or not. He wants a family. He wants it with you. And he has decided, somewhere deep and immovable, that you are the only answer to everything he has already lost.