Chapter: 7
I'd expected him to stay at the hospital all night—comforting her, reconnecting. But since he was here, now was as good a time as any to talk.
He moved through the dim house like a shadow, his broad shoulders nearly filling the kitchen doorway. Moonlight outlined the sharp planes of his face. His gaze swept over me—empty. Always empty.
The fridge hummed between us as he reached past me. The scent of cedar and rain enveloped me, sharp and intoxicating, before he pulled away and twisted open a bottle of water.
“Do you... want something to eat?” I asked. “You missed dinner.”
Nothing. Only the sound of his throat working as he swallowed, muscles tightening beneath his stubble—stubble I'd never been allowed to touch. The clatter of plastic hitting the recycling bin made me flinch.
He leaned against the counter, head bowed, like Atlas bearing the weight of the world. I'd seen this performance for ten years—talking to a ghost in my own home.
But tonight, I refused to fade into silence.
“Since you're not tired, your mind must be clear,” I said, meeting his eyes.
“What?” he asked, impatient, confused.
“Let's get divorced,” I said calmly.
Silence stretched between us for what felt like centuries. Just as I was about to repeat myself, Kieran spoke.
“Sera?! What the hell are you thinking? Do you really believe that the night your father dies is an appropriate time to talk about our divorce?”
“Can you stop being so damn selfish?!” Kieran roared, his voice echoing through the kitchen.
His words almost made me laugh. He must have forgotten the way he’d looked at Celeste earlier—like some tragic Romeo seeing his Juliet.
“Please, Kieran,” I said coldly. “Don’t pretend to be a gentleman. You can't wait to be with Celeste.”
“Yes, I've thought about it. I've never stopped thinking about it for ten years,” Kieran said, his tone as cold as his eyes. “But we're adults, Seraphina. We have to think about other things. About Daniel.”
“Let me remind you,” he added without hesitation, “the only reason we're bonded is because of Daniel.”
His words stabbed through my gut.
I clenched my fists. “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Daniel and I already talked.”
“What did you do?” Kieran advanced on me like a predator, and that was the last straw—I slapped him across the face.
“You bastard! You think you've done such a good job? Everyone can see how much you hate me. Daniel feels it. If you don’t want our son to grow up as twisted as you are, then sign the damn papers.”
I shoved the documents against his chest. “Tl do it,” he said coldly. “But I want custody of Daniel.”
“Absolutely not.” I spun around, fury burning through me as I glared at him.
All my life, people had wanted me to surrender. But I refused to let them take one more piece of me—or of Daniel.