The wordnormallanded between us like an accusation.
I swallowed. My voice came out lower than I expected. “Are you happy?”
She stared in disbelief.
The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, like it was pressing against my ears. For a second, I thought she might not answer at all.
Then I saw it, the flicker of something painful crossing her face before she pulled it back, anger snapping into place like armor.
“That was the old me,” she said, voice tight. “The stupid version of me. The girl who thought she needed to hear from you five times a day just to feel okay.”
The words hit, right where they’d do the most damage.
I flinched, because she wasn’t wrong. Because I had been careless with her in ways that still echoed. Because I’d left, and I had no right to be like this with her.
“Claire,” I started.
She didn’t let me finish.
She grabbed her bag from the counter, movements sharp and efficient, and headed for the door. She didn’t look back.
The door closed behind her with a soft, final sound.
I stood there alone in the kitchen, the house still moving around me like nothing had happened. Dad’s humming drifted in through the open window. Lily laughed somewhere down the hall.
And I realized I’d done exactly what I’d promised myself I wouldn’t.
I’d asked the question anyway.
Chapter 44
Claire
I was so angry I didn’t trust myself to think clearly.
The longer I drove, the more the conversation replayed in my head, each line sharper than the last. Ethan standing there in the kitchen, asking questions he had no right to ask. Acting like he had any authority over my choices. Overme.
The audacity of it was almost laughable.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and forced myself to slow down as I turned onto Sophie’s street. It was early evening, that in-between hour where the light hadn’t faded yet but dinner smells were starting to drift through open windows. Kids rode bikes in uneven circles, chalk drawings bleeding into the cracks of the sidewalk. A few parents called half-hearted warnings from porches.
I eased the car forward, scanning carefully. The last thing I needed was to hit someone.
Sophie’s house came into view near the end of the block, a small, cozy place. Pale siding, a low roof, flower boxes under thewindows. The porch sagged slightly in the middle, boards worn smooth by the years.
I pulled into the driveway and immediately saw her husband’s car.
I hesitated.
Normally, I would’ve turned around. Sophie’s house had become my refuge over the years, but I tried not to intrude when things were clearly already full. Especially whenhewas home.
But tonight wasn’t normal.
If I didn’t let this out, if I didn’t say it out loud to someone who knew me, I felt like I might implode. Or say something unforgivable the next time Ethan crossed my path.
I shut off the engine and got out.
The front door was open just a crack, the sound of a child crying leaking out into the evening air. My anger stalled mid-step, redirected before I could stop it.
