Chapter 72 Seventy Two
Kennedy moved toward the couch, gesturing for her to sit. She did, tucking her legs beneath her, watching him closely now.
Kennedy ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of her.
“Last night,” he began, “at the baby shower… something happened.”
Sofia’s brows knit together. “With Antonia?”
The fact that she said her name so easily made guilt bloom sharply in his chest.
“Yes.”
She waited, her expression carefully neutral.
“We ended up alone for a moment,” he continued. “In the hallway.”
Sofia nodded slowly. “And?”
Kennedy swallowed. “It got… close.”
Her posture stiffened. “Close how?”
He met her eyes, refusing to hide behind half-truths. “Close enough that if we hadn’t been interrupted, I might have kissed her.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Sofia didn’t speak. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even look angry.
She simply stared at him, processing.
Kennedy forced himself to continue. “Nothing happened. But the fact that it almost did—that matters. To me. To us.”
Finally, she spoke. “She’s engaged,” she said quietly. “And pregnant.”
“I know,” he replied immediately. “That’s why this scares me.”
Sofia folded her hands in her lap, her voice steady. “Do you still have feelings for her?”
Kennedy didn’t answer right away.
Because lying would be easier.
And wrong.
“I don’t know what to call it,” he said honestly. “But she still affects me in ways she shouldn’t.”
Sofia looked away then, blinking rapidly, but when she looked back at him, her expression was composed.
“And what about me?” she asked softly.
The question cut deeper than any accusation could have.
“I care about you,” he said. “I really do. And that’s exactly why I’m telling you this.”
She let out a quiet, shaky laugh. “You’re telling me you almost kissed another woman because you care about me?”
“I’m telling you because you deserve the truth,” he replied. “And because pretending nothing happened would be unfair to both of us.”
Sofia stood, turning toward the window, her back to him. Her shoulders were straight, her posture controlled, but he could see the tension running through her.
“So what are you saying?” she asked. “That you want to end this?”
“No,” Kennedy said quickly. “I’m saying we need to slow down.”
She turned back to face him sharply. “Slow down?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “We rushed into this. I rushed into this. I wanted something clean, uncomplicated, and I think I used that desire as a shortcut instead of actually making sure I was ready.”
Sofia’s eyes shimmered, but she didn’t let the tears fall.
“And Antonia?” she asked. “Are you going to pursue her?”
“No,” he said immediately. “She’s made her choices. And I won’t be the man who disrupts her life.”
The words tasted bitter, even to him.
“But I can’t ignore what last night showed me,” he continued. “Whatever is between us—you and me—it deserves honesty. Space. Time.”
Sofia hugged herself, nodding slowly. “I see.”
He stepped closer. “I’m not saying goodbye. I’m saying let’s figure this out without pretending we’re further along than we are.”
She took a deep breath, then smiled faintly. “You know what hurts the most?”
“What?”
“That I appreciate you for saying this,” she admitted. “Even though it feels like my heart just got knocked sideways.”
Guilt surged through him. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she said softly. “And I believe you mean it.”
She moved past him, heading toward the bedroom. At the door, she paused.
“Just promise me one thing,” she said without turning around.
“Anything.”
“If you decide you don't want anything to do with me,” Sofia said quietly, “let me know, don’t keep me hanging.”
Kennedy nodded. “I won’t.”
When she disappeared into the room, the apartment felt heavier somehow.
Kennedy returned to the window, staring out at the waking city.
Because somewhere across town, Antonia was waking up too.
And no matter how hard he tried to deny it—
She was still the first thought in his mind.
\-----
The decision didn’t come all at once.
It crept up on Kennedy quietly, settling into his chest sometime between the second cup of coffee and the third time he found himself staring at his phone, wondering—against his will—if Antonia had slept at all.
By midmorning, he knew.
He couldn’t stay.
The apartment felt wrong now. Too close to her. Too close to the mess he was trying—and failing—to outrun.
Distance had once been his solution.
It would have to be again.
Kennedy stood in his childhood bedroom at his mother’s apartment, suitcase open on the bed, folding clothes with mechanical precision. His mother, hovered in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him with narrowed eyes that had seen through him since he was ten.
“You’re leaving already,” she said, not quite a question.
“Yes,” Kennedy replied, not looking up.
“You just got back.”
He paused, exhaling slowly. “I know.”
Priscilla stepped into the room. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Antonia, would it?”
Kennedy’s hands stilled.
He straightened a shirt, buying himself a second. “Why do you think so?”
“That’s usually code for ‘yes,’” his mother said dryly.
He finally looked at her. “I have a company to run, mother.”
Priscilla studied him carefully. “If you say so.”
Kennedy zipped the suitcase shut, ending the conversation before it could turn into something heavier. “I’ll be back eventually.”
She didn’t argue further. She rarely did when she knew his mind was made up.
A soft knock came at the doorframe.
Sofia stood there, composed as ever, her expression gentle but thoughtful. She had changed since the morning—less vulnerable, more guarded. Whatever hurt she’d swallowed, she’d done it quietly.
“Your mom said you were packing,” she said.
“I am.”
She stepped inside. “When do you leave?”
“Tonight.”
Sofia blinked. “Tonight?”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly, processing. “I see.”
Kennedy hesitated. “I was about to tell you, so you would get ready too.”
They stood there for a moment, the space between them cautious, respectful, but undeniably altered.
Then Sofia surprised him.
“I don’t think I should leave just yet.” she said softly.
He looked at her, startled. “What do you mean?”
She smiled, warm and reassuring. “Your mother is lovely. And I barely know this city. I rushed through everything because I was following you. Maybe it would be good for me to stay back for a little while. Get my bearings. Keep her company.”
Priscilla, who had reappeared at the door, raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
Kennedy hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Sofia said without missing a beat. “I think you need clarity. And right now, this place isn’t giving you that. You go. Take the space you need. I’ll be here.”
Something about her calm acceptance made guilt prickle under his skin.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly.
“I know,” she replied. “I want to.”
He nodded. “Okay.”