I flinch before I can stop it. The sound of my name lands like a slap of cold air.
The door swings wider, and Sophie steps inside.
“Maya said she was—” She stops mid-sentence.
Her eyes land on me at the table. Two plates. Two glasses.
And just like that, the world tilts.
Chapter Twenty-Four
DECLAN
The house feels wrong this morning.
Too still, the kind of quiet that presses in instead of settling.
Even the coffeemaker sounds too loud.
Sophie sits at the table, spoon barely moving through her cereal. She’s not angry. Just… off. Careful. The kind of quiet kids get when they’ve seen something they don’t understand yet.
I can’t blame her. She came home expecting normal. Instead, she walked into something I wasn’t ready for her to see.
“Got everything for school?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
She nods without looking up. “Yeah.”
No talk about the musical. No questions. Just the scrape of her spoon and the hum of the fridge.
Last night keeps replaying in flashes: the doorbell, Erin’s face, Sophie in the doorway.
The confusion.
The way she blinked like she wasn’t sure if what she saw was real.
I should’ve checked my phone. Should’ve thought ahead. Should’ve known this would happen eventually—just not like that.
Not with Sophie standing there, seeing me with another woman for the first time since her mom and I divorced.
Her mom left holes I’ve spent years trying to patch over. Now I feel like I’ve gone and torn a new one.
When she finally gets up, she rinses her bowl and pulls on her backpack. “Bye, Dad.”
“Love you,” I say.
“Love you too.” The words are soft, automatic—but not the same.
The door clicks shut, and the quiet expands.
I stare at the counter—two wineglasses still in the sink, one smudge of lipstick on the rim. I should wipe it off. I don’t.
My thoughts turn to David.
Christ. If Erin tells him, word spreads fast. One dinner turns into gossip, and suddenly she’s the headline instead of the professional.
And it would be my fault.
My phone buzzes on the island with a text from Charlotte:
