I stare at my hands. “I don’t want to be the only one fighting for us.”
“And you shouldn’t,” Sophie says. “But stability isn’t supposed to feel like abandonment.”
I feel the words like a splinter under my skin. Like a truth I’ve been avoiding finally catching up to me.
Are you happy?
The question sits like a stone on my chest.
Sophie watches me carefully. “You don’t have to answer me. But you should answer yourself.”
I press my palms to my eyes, swallowing against the sting building there. Because I know the truth. I just haven’t said it out loud.
I am not happy.
Not even close.
And the worst part?
I can’t tell if I’m grieving the relationship I never really had, or the version of myself who thought this was all she deserved.
Sophie squeezes my knee. “You’re allowed to want more.”
My throat tightens.
For the first time, the walls I built around myself don’t feel protective.
They feel like a cage.
And the tiniest crack just got big enough to let the truth in.
Chapter 47
Ethan
Dr. Nora told me to prove I was safe. Not with some grand gestures. Just consistency. So that was what I did. I started small.
Packing Lily’s Lunch
The first morning, I set my alarm an hour earlier than usual. It took me three tries to get out of bed, but I did it. Mom was still sleeping when I made my way to the kitchen. The house was quiet in that pre-sunrise way, everything gray and still.
I spread Lily’s lunchbox out on the counter and stared at it. I Googled what six-year-olds liked. I overthought every option.
When Lily woke up and saw it, she blinked at me like I’d grown another head.
“You packed it?” she asked, skeptical.
“Yep.” I tried to sound confident and failed.
She opened the lid and saw the neatly arranged sandwich, fruit, crackers, and the dumb little note I’d written.
Have a great day, bug.
Her face glowed.
“This is good,” she said. “I love strawberries.”
And I swore the praise from a six-year-old was sweeter than winning any damn award.
