“Helpful,” I mutter.
Pops’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Listen. Cameron’s loyalty comes with teeth. He’s going to be angry. He’s going to feel blindsided. And then he’s going to calm down and realize…you’re you.”
My throat tightens. “You think he’ll forgive me?”
Pops’s voice is steady. “If you don’t lie to him. If you don’t make Sloane feel like she has to choose. And if you keep showing up for him even when he’s being an ass.”
That last part makes me huff a laugh. “So…forever.”
Pops nods, satisfied. “Exactly.”
I sit back, letting the advice settle into my bones like a weight I can carry.
Then Pops’s eyes soften again, and for a second, he looks older than I’ve ever seen him.
“You’ve been good for my kids, for me,” he says quietly. “You always have. I love you, son.”
My chest caves in.
“Pops,” I whisper.
He waves it off like he hates sentiment. “Don’t get emotional. Save that for your dramatic girlfriend.”
My head snaps up. “She’s not?—”
Pops’s brows lift.
I stop. Exhale hard. “Okay. Fine. Noted.”
“One more thing,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“If I don’t make it out of this,” he says conversationally, “and you hurt her, I will find a way to haunt your ass.”
A startled laugh rips out of me. “Pretty sure that violates several ghost codes.”
“Don’t care.” Pops smiles, then winces like smiling costs him. He breathes through it, then looks at me again—sharp, coach-like, purposeful.
“Now,” he says, “tell me what your plan is.”
My pulse kicks. “My plan?”
Pops nods. “For giving Sloane a great day. Because I know you, kid. You don’t sit still when you’re scared. You make plans.”
I stare at him, caught.
Because he’s right.
I’ve been texting under the table for two days, asking Beck and Sophie for advice on how to pull this off.
The day-date idea has been burning in my mind like a match.
Not because I think a date fixes anything.
But because Sloane hasn’t had a day where she wasn’t bracing for bad news in weeks. At the party a few weeks back, she said she wanted a “normal” day.
And she deserves one.
