He catches me watching, his lips curving into a grin. “Morning, Katie.”
Evie gasps, spinning around. “Mom! You were supposed to be asleep!”
“Apparently I was supposed to miss ninja pancakes,” I tease, crossing the room.
Cam straightens, brushing a streak of flour off his forearm. “We were gonna surprise you.”
“You kind of did.” My voice catches slightly, and I hope he doesn’t notice. “This looks…amazing.”
Evie beams. “We made hearts and stars!”
I glance at the skillet and sure enough, the pancakes are misshapen masterpieces. “You two might’ve just outdone Penny’s Café.”
Evie preens. “Told you we’re the best team.”
Cam winks. “You know it, bug.”
I smile, because watching him with her—the easy patience, the laughter, the way he lets her take up space without ever trying to shrink it. My chest tightens with the awareness that something is shifting again. That whatever line I thought we were holding has blurred overnight.
I don’t know what this means yet. I just know I’m standing in the doorway, afraid to move in case I break the moment.
Chapter thirty-six
Kate
Cam left for off-season practice an hour ago. After five hugs and two goodbyes, my mom pulled out of the driveway with Evie. Now I have an hour of quiet before I need to leave for the library.
I wander through the living room, picking up a sock Evie abandoned on the couch and smoothing out the blanket she kicked off in her rush to pack her backpack. My coffee has gone lukewarm on the counter, a half-eaten pile of pancakes beside it, breakfast surrendered halfway through because my brain never lets me focus on one thing at a time. There are bills on the table, a grocery list on the fridge, but they can wait until this evening.
I’m heading toward my bedroom to finish getting ready for the library when a sharp knock jolts through the front door. Threeforceful taps, too insistent to be a neighbor, too early for a delivery, too loud to be anyone stopping by casually. Something cold slides across the back of my neck. I tell myself I’m overreacting, that it could be anybody—but the knock comes again, harder this time, like whoever stands on the other side knows I’m stalling. I inhale once, and force my feet to move toward the door even as every instinct whispers don’t.
The second I open it, my stomach drops. Daniel looks exactly the same—crisp shirt, expensive watch, hair perfectly styled—as if the last five years have been effortless for him. His expression doesn’t soften when he sees me. If anything, he looks mildly inconvenienced.
“Kate,” he says, as if we spoke yesterday instead of him disappearing before our daughter was even born.
“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out thinner than I’d like, but I don’t clear my throat. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
“I’m looking for my daughter.” His tone is clipped, impatient. “Is she here?”
I grip the edge of the door to keep myself steady. “Evie’s with my mom today.”
“So she isn’t here.” The way he says it makes my skin prickle.
“That’s what I just said,” I reply, but the tremor in my voice betrays me.
He hears it. Daniel always did know how to find the weak spots and press until something cracked. He shifts his posture, sliding his hands into his pockets in that casual, superior way that once made me apologize before realizing I had nothing to be sorry for.
“I was hoping to see her.”
“You didn’t call. I didn’t have any communication from my lawyer,” I say, nails digging into my palm. “You don’t get to just show up.”
“I’m her father,” he replies coolly. “I have every right to see her.”
Anger rises sharp and fast, tangled with something like fear. “You have the right to see her during designated times, and this isn’t one of them. And where do you get off saying you have every right? You were the one who walked away,” I remind him. “Remember? You’re the one who left.”
He sighs, irritated. “We’re not doing this.”
“We’ve actually never done this,” I fire back. “You avoided every real conversation all those years ago and then disappeared. You don’t get to just show up and rewrite the story now.”
