My head snapped toward him. “You understand?”
“I understand wanting to fix something that feels broken,” he said quietly. “I understand being desperate enough to do something foolish because you can’t stand watching the people you love hurt.”
Frankie’s eyes lifted to his, shining with unshed tears.
“But that doesn’t make it okay,” Derek finished. “And it doesn’t mean you get to do it again.”
“I won’t,” Frankie whispered. “I promise.”
I turned to Maggie, guilt twisting in my stomach. “I’m sorry Frankie dragged Nox and Cami into this.”
Maggie’s expression softened. “Kat, don’t. Cami made her own choice. She knew what Frankie was doing, and she chose tostay quiet. That’s on her, not on you.” She paused, then added quietly, “And Nox... he thinks he knows everything and nothing can hurt him. I swear that kid will turn me gray before I’m thirty.”
Maggie chuckled, giving me permission to smile.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
Maggie reached over and squeezed my hand. “We’re in this together, you know. The chaos of raising them.”
I nodded, grateful for the moment of connection. Grateful for a new friendship that was healing some of the hurt inside of me.
Derek stepped forward. “I can take you and Frankie home. If that’s okay.”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
The drive to my house was quiet. Frankie dozed in the back seat, exhausted from her adventure and the emotional aftermath. Derek’s hands were steady on the wheel, his profile illuminated by the dashboard lights.
When we pulled into my driveway, Derek came around to the passenger side and carefully opened the back door. Frankie was completely asleep, her head back against the seat, her breathing deep and even. Without a word, Derek gently unbuckled her seat belt and carefully lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest like she weighed nothing. Her head lolled against his shoulder, one arm dangling loosely at her side.
I followed him inside, watching as his silhouette moved through the darkened hallway. He navigated carefully, avoiding the creaky floorboard near the bathroom, and pushed open Frankie’s bedroom door with his hip.
A few moments later, I heard the soft click of her door closing. Then his footsteps returned down the hallway, and he emerged back into the living room where I was waiting, his expression unreadable in the dim light.
“She’s asleep,” he said quietly.
I nodded, unable to find words. The image of him carrying her so carefully had shattered something inside me. Some wall I’d been building against him.
Derek stood in my living room, looking uncertain for the first time since I’d met him. “I should go.”
“Wait.” The word came out before I could stop it. “We need to talk.”
He nodded slowly.
I gestured to the couch, and we both sat down, careful to maintain distance between us. The silence stretched out, heavy with everything unsaid.
“I talked to Sam,” I said finally.
Derek’s jaw tightened. “What did she tell you?”
“I’d like to hear it from you.”
Derek’s expression remained carefully neutral.
I listened as he told me about his relationship with Sam. And what struck me most, what made my chest tighten with something I couldn’t quite name, was that Derek took all the blame. Every single ounce of it.
He didn’t deflect. Didn’t make excuses. Didn’t point to Sam’s infidelity or her lies and manipulation as reasons for what happened between them. Instead, he took responsibility for his own failures with a brutal honesty that felt almost painful to witness.
I watched his face as he spoke, searching for signs of the monster I’d been told to fear. But what I saw instead was a man wrestling with guilt and genuine remorse. His hands wereclenched in his lap, his jaw tight, but not with anger, with the weight of his own culpability.
