Chloe unlocked the door with her elbow, arms full with Carter's school bag, a half-empty lunchbox, and a folder of invoices she didn't have time to file. The apartment smelled faintly like peanut butter and stale coffee. Familiar. Lived in. Tired.
The graveyard shift had drained the last of her, but there was no room to collapse. She dropped the bags gently by the kitchen table, careful not to wake the two sleeping bodies tangled on the couch.
Kevin's arm was wrapped protectively around Carter's small frame, both of them breathing in slow sync beneath a blanket that had seen better days. It was a scene Chloe had once loved—her little family in one frame. Now, it just made her ache.
Kevin was still a good father. She would never take that from him. He painted pillow forts, fixed breakfast on Saturdays, and knew all of Carter's bedtime songs by heart. But being a parent wasn't the same as being a partner. Not anymore.
She moved quietly, toeing off her heels and tiptoeing to the kitchen to warm up leftovers from two nights ago. She chewed in silence, eyes on the bills on the counter, mind running laps around everything that wasn't being said.
Still no text. No explanation. No mention of Sophia 💋.
The betrayal didn't sting as much as it used to. That was the worst part. She wasn't shattered. Just numb. The kind of tired that sat beneath her skin and whispered, This is what happens when you give too much for too long.
Chloe rinsed her mug and glanced toward the couch again.
She'd stayed for Carter. For the routine. For the hope that maybe Kevin would return not just in body, but in effort. But now she wasn't sure what she was hoping for anymore.
Sleep tugged at her, heavy and cruel. She scribbled a note for Kevin—just logistics—and headed to the bedroom alone.
Outside, the sun was rising. Inside, Chloe pulled the blanket over her chest and closed her eyes, pretending rest would come easy.