"We do," Roger replied, pulling out his phone with a grin. He scrolled through his photo album, his fingers quick and practiced. "They're almost ready to look after themselves. Look, here they are last Christmas." He turned the screen toward us, revealing a photo of himself, Margaret, and three Black girls, all smiling brightly in festive sweaters, a Christmas tree twinkling behind them.

"Oh, you adopted?" I said, touched by the warmth in the image. "That's lovely."

"Oh, no," they said in unison, their laughter light and synchronized. Margaret leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "They're from my lovers, sweetie."

I blinked, my coffee cup pausing halfway to my lips. "I don't understand," I said, my mind scrambling to process her words.

Roger took over, his tone calm but unflinching, as if he'd explained this many times before. "Women have a greater capacity for sexual pleasure, Elise. You know that. I've always been glad when Margaret takes other lovers. I was proud to help raise her kids. I love them all. I just didn't father them."

The words hung in the air, bold and unapologetic. I wasn't sure how to respond, my thoughts a tangle of shock, curiosity, and something else I couldn't quite name. Liam's hand, resting on my thigh under the table, tightened slightly, and I felt a shift in his energy. Glancing at him, I saw a flush on his cheeks, his eyes fixed on Roger with an intensity that surprised me. On impulse, I brushed my hand against his crotch, subtle enough to go unnoticed by the others. The hardness I found there confirmed it-he was turned on. The revelation about Margaret and Roger's lifestyle, so openly shared, had sparked something in him, and I couldn't deny the answering stir in my own chest. My pulse quickened, not just from Liam's reaction but from the possibilities their words opened up, like a door I hadn't realized was there.