Page 43 of Dagger

I nod, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “I did. I told him we had sex, it happened, and it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Chloe,” she says, her voice full of disbelief. “That’shuge.You’ve been holding so much back from him for so long.”

“I know,” I say, my voice softer now. “And it wasn’t easy. But I couldn’t stand there and let him make me feel like I was some helpless little girl who didn’t know what she was doing. I wanted him that night, and I don’t regret it. He needed to hear that.”

Sophie looks at me for a moment, then nods slowly, a small smile breaking across her face. “I’m proud of you,” she says, her voice firm. “I mean it. That took guts, standing up to him like that.”

“Yeah, well,” I say with a shrug, “I don’t feel all that brave. I just... I don’t know where we stand now. It’s a mess.”

She reaches across the counter and squeezes my hand. “It might be a mess, but you’re handling it. And that’s more than most people would do.”

I take a deep breath, letting her words sink in. “That’s not even the whole story,” I say after a moment.

“Oh?” she prompts, sitting back with her own cup of coffee.

“I had this dream last night,” I start, staring into my tea as the memory washes over me. “Dagger was there. We were lying in bed, holding each other, and everything felt... perfect. Then the baby cried, and he got up to get him. He brought him to me, and I nursed him, and afterward, Dagger took him back to his room. When I came back to bed, he held me, kissed me, and told me he loved me.”

Sophie’s eyes soften as she listens. “Wow,” she says quietly.

“It felt so real,” I admit, my voice thick. “Like this perfect little life we could have if things were different.” I shake my head, trying to clear the lingering ache. “But it’s not real. It’s just a dream.”

She watches me for a moment before speaking. “Dream or not, it’s what you want, isn’t it?”

I don’t answer right away, my chest tightening at the question. “I don’t know,” I say finally. “It’s what IthinkI want, but I don’t know if it’s what’s best. For me. For him.”

Sophie nods slowly, giving me space to breathe. “And Hawk?” she asks after a moment.

I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. “Hawk. He offered to let me move in with him. Said it’d be easier for me and the baby.”

“That sounds... generous,” Sophie says carefully.

“It is,” I agree. “But we both know he wants more than friendship. He said he’s fine waiting until I’m ready, but I can’t do that to him. I can’t move in knowing he feels that way when I don’t even know how I feel aboutanythingright now.”

Sophie tilts her head, studying me. “So, what are you going to do?”

I take a deep breath, meeting her gaze. “I’m going to get a place for me and my son,” I say firmly. “That’s all I can focus on right now. Everything else—Dagger, Hawk, all of it—it’ll have to wait.”

Sophie nods, her expression a mix of pride and sadness. “You’re doing the right thing, Chloe. Putting yourself and the baby first. That’s what matters.”

I smile faintly, her words giving me a little more strength. “Thanks, Soph. And thanks for coming with me today. It means a lot.”

She waves me off with a grin. “What are friends for? Now, come on, let’s go find you a house.”

Tank pulls his big black truck into Sophie and Tank’s driveway, and I climb into the back while Sophie hops into the passenger seat. “It’s nice that the place is so close,” Sophie says, glancing back at me as Tank starts the truck.

“Yeah,” I agree, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “Five minutes away is perfect.”

Tank grunts, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Let’s hope it’s as good as it looks in the pictures.”

I nod, my fingers playing nervously with the hem of my shirt. I can feel Sophie’s eyes on me, but she doesn’t say anything, and I’m grateful for it.

The drive is quick, the neighborhood quiet and well-kept. When we pull up to the little house, I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. The yard is tidy, with a small flower bed near the porch. It’s older, sure, but it has character—a cozy vibe that makes me hopeful.

A car is already parked in the driveway, and as we get out, a man steps out of the car. He’s in his mid-thirties, maybe, with a slightly receding hairline and a friendly, if nervous, smile. His gaze lands on Tank as he climbs out of the truck, and the man’s eyes widen slightly, like he wasn’t expecting someone so... massive.

I step forward, smiling to break the tension. “Hi, I’m Chloe,” I say, extending my hand. “I’m the one who messaged you earlier. Thanks for showing us the house today.”

He takes my hand and shakes it quickly, his smile twitching nervously as his gaze flickers back to Tank. “Uh, I’m Eddie. I own the place,” he says, pulling out a ring of keys from his pocket.

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