"Is it?" Sarah leans against the counter. "You're so focused on keeping yourself—and Hazel—safe that you're guaranteeing you'll both miss out on real happiness."
"I saw what losing Dad did to Mom."
"Yes," Sarah says, resting a hand on my shoulder, "and she still says it was worth it. The only thing worse than losing love is never letting yourself have it at all."
I roll my eyes at the cliché comment. I'm saved from the conversation when Hazel thunders back down the stairs, her sneakers squeaking on the hardwood. "Can we have garlic bread, too?"
Sarah glances up from her seat at the kitchen counter, her lips curving into a soft smile. "Already in the oven."
I lean against the doorway, watching them both, pretending this moment doesn't ache as much as it does. They're my family, my whole world, but there's another silence here that feels heavier now, emptier.
It wasn't like this when Sophia was here. She was the spark that made this house come alive. She knew how to make Hazel laugh so hard she'd snort and how to get Sarah to relax and stay for another glass of wine instead of rushing back to her to-do list. With Sophia, it all felt…right.
I swallow hard as the knot in my throat tightens. I thought letting her go was the right thing. Safer. For Hazel. For me. For her. I told myself it would hurt less in the long run, that we'd be fine without her, and that I couldn't risk letting her in only to lose her the way my mom lost my dad.
But I was wrong. Without her, it's like the light's been switched off in this house. I miss her.
I run a hand over my jaw, exhaling slowly. I toldmyself I could live without her, that I'd be protecting Hazel, saving us all from a pain we didn't need to feel. But this—this—is worse. The ache of knowing she's out there, thinking I didn't want her, that she didn't matter when the truth is…I'm in love with her.
"I think I made a mistake," I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Hazel pauses mid-spin, and she turns to look at me with wide, curious eyes. "About what?"
My chest tightens. I glance at Sarah, but she's watching me, waiting. There's no turning back now.
"Sophia," I say, forcing the name past my lips.
Hazel blinks, and then her face lights up. "Finally!" She grins, and her gap-toothed smile makes my chest ache all over again. "I miss her, Daddy. You're gonna fix it, right?"
I clear my throat, nodding once. "Yeah. I'm gonna fix it."
"Good," Hazel says with the certainty only a six-year-old can muster before skipping back to the counter.
Sarah leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Well, if you're serious about fixing it, you'd better be ready to go all in. Sophia won't settle for halfway."
I meet her gaze, my jaw tightening with determination. "I know. And this time, neither will I."
Sarah grins. "Well, little brother, you've come to the right people. Let's make a plan."
"You should tell everyone you love her!" Hazel bounces on her toes, flooding the kitchen with her excitement. "Get a megaphone on top of a building or one of those planes that write in the sky, or go on TV and?—"
I freeze as her words ignite an idea. "Hazel…you're brilliant."
"I am?" Her face lights up.
I pull out my phone and dial Lucas while I pace. Sarah and Hazel exchange curious looks.
"Hey, Grant. What's up?" Lucas answers.
"I need to make a statement," I say, running a hand through my hair. "About Sophia. Or maybe you can get someone to write an article. Something that lets me set the record straight and share how I feel about Sophia."
"Um."
There's a pause, and then another voice cuts in. "Oh, thank God. You finally got your head out of your ass."
"Jess?"
"You're on speaker," Lucas explains.
