“Dinner tonight,” she says. “Evie likes to eat promptly at five.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I’ll be here.”
She nods once, closes the door, and they pull away, Evie pressing her hand to the window as they wave.
I stand there for a long moment, then I exhale slowly, walk back to the house, and reach for my keys to my truck on the counter inside.
I won’t wait for a second knock on our door.
If Daniel wants to pretend he can come in and out of their lives whenever it suits him, then he can hear—calmly—that sort of thing won’t work while I’m around.
I DM’d Haddie Carmichael.
Believe me, it wasn’t my proudest moment. I knew the risk: Cedar Falls’ queen of public information would smell a story before I even hit send. But I needed to know where Daniel was staying, and if I needed answers fast, she was the surest bet.
The drive across town takes ten minutes, but it feels longer. Not because of anger—though it simmers quietly—but because I keep rehearsing what I’m going to say. Direct, firm, not aggressive. I want him to understand boundaries. That’s it.
The rental he’s in sits near the lake—white siding, black shutters, the kind of place people book when they want to feel like a local for a week. I park out front, take one slow breath, and flex my hands on the steering wheel.
I’m halfway up the path when the door opens. Daniel fills the frame in a pressed shirt and polished shoes, posture stiff but polite—a look he probably practiced in a mirror for years.
“Coach Wells,” he says, surprise slipping beneath the smooth tone. “Didn’t expect visitors.”
“I just want to talk,” I say calmly. “Two minutes. That’s it.”
He studies me, then steps aside. “All right.”
I don’t go inside—instead, I remain on the porch. Neutral ground.
“This is about Kate and Evie,” I say. “You need to go through the proper channels. Lawyers. Court. Whatever they set up. But you do not show up at their home unannounced again.”
Daniel’s jaw works, stiff and annoyed. “So that’s how we’re doing this?” he asks. “You showing up here telling me when and how I can see my daughter?”
“I’m telling you to stick to the process everyone agreed on up to this point,” I say evenly. “You have to follow it.”
He lets out a sharp breath. “I’m already being treated like an outsider. Now I’m supposed to run every move through a lawyer just to avoid upsetting your…arrangement?”
“That’s not what this is,” I say calmly. “It’s about doing things the right way. That’s all.”
He doesn’t agree, not openly, but he doesn’t deny it either. His silence is all irritation and ego—exactly the friction he’s been carrying into every conversation since he showed up.
The door creaks behind him, and a woman steps out—blonde, poised, her linen dress pressed perfectly. Her gaze skates over me like I tracked mud onto her rug.
“Daniel?” she asks sharply. “What’s going on?”
“Just a conversation,” he says.
“A conversation?” Her eyes narrow. “Is this the husband?”
I keep my tone even. “Yes, that’s me.”
Daniel’s eyes shoot to me. “So, that rumor is true?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Daniel’s eyes narrow. “Well, that was fast, wasn’t it?”
“You should leave,” Elizabeth cuts in. “This doesn’t involve you.”
