“Huh?” I grunt.
Shit, so maybe I’m not listening well.
“What planet is this? Do you think it’s right?”
I take the phone from her hands and look at the screen. It shows us an overview of the night sky overhead with nice labels. You can narrow down any section, easily zooming in and searching the names of the major stars and planets named to track with the sky.
There’s more on constellations, too, which Soph has spent a long time working on. She wants to know them all by heart one day.
“Which one do you mean, honey?” I ask.
“Look here. I don’t know if it matches.” She drags me under the telescope, and I look through the lens.
It’s too faint to be Jupiter, but the telescope captures the faintest fuzzy rings. Definitely Saturn.
“Should be there on the app. Bet you five bucks you can’t find it.”
“Daaad,” she whines, but she’s smiling. “I wanted you to get it for me.”
“Where’s the fun in that, baby girl? And how will you learn if you don’t do it yourself? Look harder, then you tell me what that is.”
“Notfair,” she hisses as she takes the phone and dips her face back under the telescope.
My mind goes back to what Margot said.
About running.
About how I mouthed off, calling it a mistake.
A heat of the moment slip. Almost inevitable when I was pissed off and frustrated and she tried to reason our way out of a bad situation.
If something goes to shit, just say so.
I can handle the truth.
Now, our names are linked in public, and the ugly all-seeing eye makes everything more complicated.
The truth is, I can’t fold her life into mine. It’s too complicated and we’re too incompatible.
That woman deserves better than more rumors breathing down her neck.
And I didn’t meanshewas a mistake.
I don’t regret our time together.
The thing I regret isn’t Margot Blackthorn—it’s how this fuckery could hurt her while she’s boiling over our stalker stress.
I damn sure regret having no idea how I’m going to make it better.
“Saturn! Found it!” Sophie says triumphantly.
I beam her a smile. I hope it doesn’t look too absent.
“Great job, Soph.” I mean it, though.
Dan looks up from drumming, his little face tense with focus as he pulls off his headphones.
Sophie goes back to stargazing with her phone in one hand and her face pushed to the telescope, but Dan watches me with a seriousness that seems older than his nine years.
