Page 56 of Connor

Nothing.

I, leaning against the counter, watching her. "Morning, sunshine."

Silence.

Not even a glance.

She used to melt for me. Now? She didn’t even flinch. That was worse than if she were screaming. She ate her breakfast, got ready, then left. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone with the sound of the ticking clock and the burnt edge of frustration curling in my gut..

Then I saw it. A small, glossy photo on the counter. My eyes narrowed, and I stepped forward, fingers hesitating before picking it up.

It took me a fucking second to figure out what I was looking at, but then something about the blobs started to make a little more sense. It was a sonogram. Jesus.

There wasn’t even anything there yet, just a red marker circling what would eventually be something. Someone. Our kid. My head spun.

I swallowed. Hard. Then, with shaky fingers, I put it back down and stepped away. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and for a second, I almost ignored it. But something told me to check.

I pulled it out, barely glancing at the screen before answering. "Yeah?"

Aiden’s voice came through, tight and low. "Mom’s in the hospital."

Everything inside me went cold. "What?"

"She went back to Dad," he said, voice clipped. "I don’t know what happened yet, but I got a call from the hospital. She's there now."

Rage exploded through my veins, hot and blinding. "Fucking hell, Aiden, are you serious?"

"Connor—" he started, but I was already moving, grabbing my keys, putting on my jacket. I felt sick. Sick and furious and fucking helpless. My mother—

"I knew she’d do this," I spit out. "I knew she’d fucking go back to him."

"Connor," Aiden snapped, cutting through my anger. "She went there to ask for a divorce."

I stopped dead in my tracks.

The words slammed into me like a sledgehammer. Divorce? My mother, who had spent years making excuses, covering up bruises, whispering that things would get better, had finally—

She meant it.

She fucking meant it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest a mess of anger and relief and something else I couldn’t name. I dragged in a breath, forcing my voice to steady. "Where are you now?"

"On my way to the house. I’ll see you there."

The line went dead. I stood there, breathing hard, then pulled out my phone again, typing out a quick message to Summer.

Connor:Something came up. Won’t be home for a bit.

I didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t expect one. Instead, I slid my phone back into my pocket and walked out the door, ready for whatever the fuck was waiting for me at home.

***

The drive to Dad’s house was a blur. Aiden’s voice echoed in my head. She went there to ask for a divorce.

It didn’t make sense. For years, our mother had lived in denial, always believing that things would get better, that he would change, that his love—his sick, twisted fucking version of love—was worth enduring.

And now she wanted out?

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