Chapter 22 022
EMILY
The doorbell rang once, sharp and insistent, and I pretended it was part of a dream I was not ready to wake from.
It rang again.
Then again.
I groaned and rolled onto my side, shoving Morgan’s leg off me without pity. “If that’s the apocalypse, I’m not answering,” I muttered, my voice thick with sleep and leftover emotion.
Morgan groaned too, blinking awake beside me. Her hair was a mess, one eye half-open. “It better be a fire.”
The doorbell rang again, longer this time, like whoever it was had decided patience was overrated.
“Okay, that’s aggressive,” I said, pushing myself upright. My head throbbed faintly, the emotional hangover from last night still clinging to me like fog. I stood, tugged down the oversized shirt I’d slept in, and dragged myself toward the stairs.
Morgan followed behind me, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “If that’s Ryan, I’m hiding.”
I snorted softly. “You wish.”
We padded downstairs together, bare feet against cool wood, the house still half asleep. Early morning light filtered through the front windows, pale and gentle, like it was trying not to startle us. I reached the door, paused, took a breath, and opened it.
Ryan stood there.
And Zara.
My very awake, very energetic child bounced on the balls of her feet like she’d been powered by pure sugar and happiness. Her curls were wild, cheeks flushed, blue eyes shining. She looked like she’d had the best night of her life.
Ryan looked… fine.
Too fine.
Clean shirt. Coffee in hand. Calm. Put together. Like he had slept. Nice.
“Morning,” he said, voice easy.
Zara lit up instantly. “Mummy!”
She tried to launch herself at me, arms outstretched, but Ryan kept a gentle hold on her hand. “Easy, princess,” he said softly.
I stepped back to let them in, raising a brow. “What’s going on?”
“I’m dropping her off for the day,” Ryan said like this was the most normal thing in the world. “I’ve got a board meeting in thirty minutes.”
I smirked internally. Just a little. Petty satisfaction curled in my chest before I could stop it. “Oh? I hope you had a good night then.”
He nodded without hesitation. “Of course. Zara slept before ten. Everything was calm.”
That stung more than it should have.
Morgan appeared behind me then, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, watching the scene unfold like she was front row at a drama she hadn’t paid for.
“That’s… good,” I said slowly. “Great, actually.”
Ryan nodded again. “Yeah. When I pick her up later, I’m going to get her a replacement for Mr Bear. Since it seems he got lost in transit.”
Heat rushed straight to my face. “I’m sorry about that.”
He didn’t smile. Didn’t tease. Just nodded once, like he understood more than he was saying and was choosing not to press it. He bent down, pressed a gentle kiss to Zara’s forehead, and said, “See you later, princess.”
Then he straightened.
And walked out.
Without saying goodbye to me.
The door closed softly behind him, the sound louder than it should have been in the quiet house.
Zara’s face crumpled instantly, joy evaporating like it had never been there. Her bottom lip trembled. “Daddy…”
I moved without thinking, scooping her up before the tears could fully spill. “Hey,” I said softly, pressing her close. “No, no. We’re not doing that now, okay? Come on, baby.”
She sniffled, still clinging to my neck, her little fingers twisted into the fabric of my shirt like I might disappear if she let go. My heart squeezed painfully, but before I could say anything else, Morgan stepped forward, saving us both.
“Good morning, superstar,” Morgan said brightly, her voice cheerful in that deliberate way she used when she sensed an emotional landmine.
Zara’s head lifted instantly.
“Auntie Morgan!” she squealed.
She wriggled out of my arms with surprising strength and launched herself into Morgan’s, giggling as if nothing had ever been wrong. Just like that, the tears were forgotten. Crisis averted. For now.
I exhaled slowly, my chest tight, watching the way Zara melted into Morgan like she always did. Safe. Happy. Untouched by the quiet panic clawing through me.
Morgan carried her into the living room and dropped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Alright,” she said, grinning. “So. Tell me everything.”
Zara did not need to be asked twice.
“My daddy made pancakes,” she announced proudly, hands waving for emphasis. “With chocolate chips. And he let me pour the syrup. And we watched cartoons. And I slept in his bed.”
I stiffened.
Morgan shot me a quick look but stayed quiet.
“And,” Zara added, as if remembering something very important, “from Monday, I want Daddy to start dropping me off at school so I can show him to Jodie.”
I blinked. Once. Twice. “What?”
Zara nodded seriously, like this had already been decided by some higher authority. “Jodie says her daddy is tall. But mine is taller.”
The room felt smaller all of a sudden. My throat closed, the words sticking painfully. “But I always drop you off.”
She shrugged, already bored with the conversation. “I want Daddy to do it now.”
The words landed sharp and heavy, right in the center of my chest, knocking the air out of me.
“Oh,” I said quietly, because I didn’t trust myself to say anything else.
She had already moved on, sliding off the couch and crawling over to her toys, humming to herself like she hadn’t just cracked something fragile open inside me.
Morgan watched me carefully. “Em.”
I shook my head, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “No. No, I can’t. I can’t do this.”
“You can,” she said gently, standing up.
“I can’t,” I repeated, my voice cracking. “He’s moving too fast. This is too fast.”
“She likes him,” Morgan said softly. “That was always going to happen.”
“I know,” I snapped, then immediately softened. “I know. But this feels like I’m being erased.”
Her eyes filled with understanding. “You’re not being erased.”
I stood abruptly, my heart pounding. “I need to talk to Ryan.”
Morgan frowned. “Em, you’re not being rational.”
“I am being very rational,” I insisted. “He needs to slow down. He does not get to just step in and rearrange our lives.”
“For your own sake,” Morgan said, stepping closer, “you need to adapt to the changes.”
I let out a weak, broken laugh. “I hate when you’re right.”
She pulled me into a hug without hesitation. “I know.”
We stayed like that for a moment, my face pressed into her shoulder, breathing through the ache until it dulled just enough to stand.
“I have to go,” she said finally. “But you’re not alone in this. Okay?”
“Okay.”
She kissed Zara’s forehead, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. Just before leaving, she turned back to me. “Be reasonable.”
I nodded, even though my chest still burned.
After she left, the house felt too quiet.
Zara played on the floor, content and humming, while I stood there staring at nothing, my thoughts racing.
I knew what Morgan said made sense.
I also knew I was going to talk to Ryan.
He needed to slow down.
And I was going to tell him just that.