I can’t help a small chuckle. “You know what’s funny? When I was your age, I thought Charlotte was the most annoying person on the planet.”
Sophie blinks, mid–spoonful. “Seriously?”
“Yep. Always smiling, always talking, always trying to make me join in whatever chaos she and your Uncle David were up to.”
Her mouth quirks like she’s trying not to grin. “You hated fun, didn’t you?”
“Still do,” I tease. “She just stopped letting me get away with it.”
I reach across the table, resting my hand over hers. “I know this was a lot to take in. But this doesn’t change us, okay? You’re still my number one.”
“I know.” She squeezes my hand, small and sure.
The quiet that follows isn’t awkward anymore. It’s the kind that feels settled, like an exhale we both needed.
She finishes her cereal, rinses the bowl, and checks her phone on the counter. “Maya just texted—they’re outside.”
I glance toward the window. Sure enough, Erin’s SUV idles at the curb.
She slings her backpack over her shoulder. “Can we make pancakes this weekend?”
“Absolutely. We can even have it with hot chocolate.”
She grins, the easy kind I’ve missed all week. “Okay. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too.”
The door shuts behind her, and the air feels lighter—relief, maybe. Or hope.
Either way, I’ll take it.
By the time I get to the facility, the place is already buzzing with early-day noise—trainers hauling gear, skates clattering in the distance, someone’s coffee machine sputtering near the lounge. Morning light slants through the narrow hallway windows, cutting across the floor in sharp white stripes.
Charlotte’s in the training room when I step in, sleeves pushed up, hair pinned back, scrolling on her tablet. She glances up, and her smile lands like oxygen after a long hold.
“How’s Sophie?”
The smile comes easier than it has in days. “Better. We talked this morning.”
Her whole face softens. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “She was nervous, but she asked a few things about us. I told her the truth. That I care about you. That she comes first. I think it helped.”
Charlotte exhales, shoulders dropping like she’s been holding that breath since Seattle. “I’m so glad to hear that.”
“Me too.” I study her for a second. “She’ll come around, Charlie. I can feel it.”
“I hope so,” she says quietly.
“Hey.” I tilt my head, a small smile tugging. “You were right, you know. About giving her time.”
“Professional intuition.”
“Yeah? Thought it was personal.”
That earns me a soft laugh, her eyes brightening just a little.
For a moment, we just stay there in the easy quiet, the worst of it finally behind us.
