She shakes her head. “No, it’s supposed to feel like she’sbreaking. Not just yelling—like she’s scared she’s gonna lose everything.”
She paces again, rewinds the line, tries it softer, then sharper.
I grab her script off the counter and skim for her next cue. “Want me to read the line before yours?” I ask.
“Yeah. Page six.”
I read the cue line flatly. I’m no actor, that’s for damn sure, but it helps. She hits her next line with a little more fire this time. I watch her face change. Her eyes sharpen.
And when she finally lands it just right, she grins without realizing it.
“There it is,” I say quietly.
She ducks her head, pretending it’s no big deal. But I can see it in her shoulders. Pride. Relief. That little kick of confidence she doesn’t always show.
She’s... good.
Actuallygood.
And I couldn’t be more proud.
“She said she’ll be at the musical,” Sophie says suddenly, like it’s nothing. Like it’s not a landmine.
I freeze.
“She texted last night,” she adds, casual. Too casual. “Said she already blocked it off on her calendar.”
I stare into my coffee, the edge of the mug hot against my lip.
She better fucking mean it this time.
But I don’t say that. Don’t let any of it reach my face.
I nod, careful to keep my expression neutral. “That’ll be nice.”
Sophie shrugs, but her fingers are tapping against her water bottle, nervous energy she thinks I don’t notice.
“It’s fine if she doesn’t come,” she adds quickly. “It’s not even a big deal.”
Bullshit. It’s a huge deal.
But I can’t promise her anything. Can’t protect her from this, not really. Just gotta stand there and absorb the impact if Vanessa disappoints her again.
Actually, more likewhen.
“You’re gonna be great,” I say instead. I reach across the table, squeeze her hand. “No matter who’s in the audience.”
Her eyes meet mine. Then she rolls them. “Stop being cheesy.”
I chuckle. “Can’t help it. Comes with the dad territory.”
A car horn chirps outside. Right on time. Erin and Maya doing their usual morning pickup.
She zips up her bag, slings it over her shoulder like she’s not carrying anything heavy. Like she hasn’t heard this promise a dozen times before—and felt it fall through more than half of them.
“Hey,” I say before she heads to the door.
She turns.
