Chapter 8

The moment her warmth vanishes hits me like a physical blow. One second, her expression is soft—almost nostalgic—and the next, it’s ice. The shift leaves me hollow.

"What are you doing here?" Sophia’s voice is flat, lifeless, as I step inside.

Like I’m nothing. Like I’m a stranger.

I stare, speechless. Ten years together, and suddenly, I can’t string a coherent thought together. My gaze drops to her sling. That’s why I came—to check on her. And to pick up Liam. It’s my weekend.

Then I remember the man leaving her house. My jaw tightens. That’s who the smile was for.

"What was he doing here?" I demand instead of answering, fighting to keep the irrational fury out of my voice.

Sure, the guy’s a cop. He saved her life. But he’s overstepping. I don’t like him near her.

"None of your business," she snaps.

"It is my business when you’re entertaining men this early with my son in the house." My voice drops. "Did he stay the night? Is that why I saw him leaving?"

The idea tastes like acid. She’s already moving on? Introducing random men to Liam?

She laughs, sharp and humorless. "Oh, the hypocrisy. Do I ask about Isabella? Do I care?"

I glare. "Isabella is different."

"How?" She tilts her head, mocking. "Oh, right. She’s the love of your life."

My teeth grind. She’s trying to provoke me.

"I won’t do anything to hurt Liam," she continues, voice steady. "But I’m single now. I’ll see whoever I want. I won’t be alone forever."

My hands fist at that. Something hot and violent coils in my chest.

She turns away, leaving me in the hallway. I force myself to breathe, then follow the sound of clattering pans.

Her house is nothing like ours. The difference is jarring.

She’s in the kitchen, wiping the counter. When she sees me, her glare could freeze hell.

"I hoped you’d leave. You’re not welcome here."

Every word from her lately is poison.

"It’s my weekend. I came for Liam."

"He’s still asleep. You could’ve honked, like usual."

I sit at the island. She tenses, gripping the dish towel.

"I’ll wait. We need to talk."

Her frown deepens. "We have nothing to talk about. Stick to the custody agreement, and we can pretend the other doesn’t exist."

I exhale sharply. Where’s the woman who never argued?

"Isn’t this what you wanted? Me out of your life?" she challenges.

"I didn’t ask for the divorce," I snap.

Her smile is bitter. "But you wanted it. Now you’re free to be with Isabella."

I never lied to her. She always knew Isabella had my heart.

"What do you want me to say? You knew how I felt."

She slams the towel down. "That didn’t stop you from using me, did it? God, I hate you. I wasted years on you."

Rage burns through me. Yes, we slept together. But I kept my vows.

"I’m not here about the past. I’m here about Liam."

At his name, she stills. She pulls out painkillers, swallowing two.

"How’s the arm?" I ask.

"Cut the act, Ethan. You don’t care."

I nearly explode. "Damn it, Sophia!"

"Say what you came to say or leave."

She tries to walk away. I grab her wrist. She jerks back like I’ve burned her.

"Don’t touch me!"

I raise my hands. This is how it’s going to be? Constant war?

"This childishness is why I always preferred Isabella," I growl.

Her face goes deadly cold. "Get out. Now."

I exhale. "I’m sorry."

She scoffs. "Save it."

We can’t keep fighting. Not for Liam’s sake.

"Your parents and mine are going into witness protection," I say. "Because of the gang case. I want Liam with them."

Her face pales. "Why?"

"Because I helped take them down. They’ve threatened me. And they know Liam is my weakness."

She sneers. "And Isabella, right?"

I ignore her. "Your father’s already dead because of this. I won’t risk Liam."

"Why tell me now?"

"You left before we could explain."

"How long?"

"Until the threat’s gone."

She nods, resigned. "When?"

"Two days."

I see the pain in her eyes. But she’ll do anything to keep him safe.

"Fine. You take him today. I’ll take tomorrow."

"Deal."

She leaves to wake Liam.

And that’s when I realize—the love in her eyes when she looked at me?

It’s gone.

Now, she looks at me the way I used to look at her.

With nothing but hate.