Chapter Ten
1150 Words
The restaurant had been Sofia’s choice.
Naturally.
Because apparently winning one school quiz gave an eight-year-old complete authority over the rest of the day.
“I’m thinking starters.”
“You don’t eat starters.”
“I’m eight now.”
Emily laughed.
I nearly missed a step.
The sound still caught me off guard.
Two years later and it still did.
“Eight-year-olds don’t get starters.”
Sofia gasped.
“That’s discrimination.”
I looked at Emily.
Emily looked at me.
Neither of us could keep a straight face.
“See?” Sofia pointed dramatically. “Nobody respects me.”
“That’s because you’re being ridiculous.”
“I learned from you.”
The child had a point.
Unfortunately.
⸻
The restaurant was busy.
Families.
Children.
Weekend noise.
The waitress led us to a table near the window.
Sofia immediately claimed the middle seat.
Of course she did.
Meaning Emily and I ended up sitting opposite each other.
Also of course.
The universe enjoyed these things.
⸻
Menus arrived.
Sofia didn’t even look at hers.
“I want chicken goujons.”
Emily sighed.
“You always want chicken goujons.”
“They’re delicious.”
A fair argument.
The waitress left.
Sofia launched into another retelling of the Father’s Day quiz.
Somehow each version contained more dramatic details than the last.
Apparently by the third telling I’d forgotten every answer.
Possibly my own name.
I listened.
Watched.
And realised something.
Sofia was happy.
Really happy.
Not because of the event.
Not because of lunch.
Because she’d spent the morning talking about her dad.
Without anybody getting sad.
That mattered.
More than I realised.
⸻
“You lost.”
I blinked.
Sofia was staring at me.
Apparently I’d missed part of the conversation.
“Sorry?”
“The quiz.”
“Ah.”
The betrayal.
“Yes.”
“You should feel bad.”
“I do.”
“Good.”
Satisfied, she returned to colouring on the children’s menu.
Children were terrifying.
⸻
For the first time all day, silence settled over the table.
Not uncomfortable.
Just quiet.
Emily broke it first.
“Thank you.”
I looked up.
“For what?”
“For today.”
The words surprised me.
Emily wasn’t usually the thank-you type.
At least not with me.
“It wasn’t exactly a hardship.”
A small smile appeared.
Then disappeared.
Too quickly.
“I know.”
I looked away first.
A tactical retreat.
⸻
The milkshakes arrived.
Chaos followed.
Naturally.
Sofia immediately knocked over two straws.
Then spent the next five minutes explaining why it wasn’t technically her fault.
I wasn’t listening.
Not really.
Because Emily was laughing.
Again.
The real kind.
Not polite.
Not forced.
Not the smile she used when clients annoyed her.
Actually laughing.
The sound caught me off guard.
For a second I just watched her.
The afternoon sun spilled through the restaurant window, catching in her dark hair.
Tiny freckles dusted the bridge of her nose and cheeks.
Summer freckles.
I wasn’t sure if they’d always been there.
Maybe they had.
Maybe I’d simply never noticed.
Or maybe I’d spent years making sure I looked somewhere else.
Emily looked up suddenly.
Brown eyes.
Green flecks hidden inside them.
For a second our eyes met.
Then I looked away first.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Because it wasn’t the freckles.
Or the eyes.
Or the fact that she was objectively a beautiful woman.
It was the realisation that she looked happy.
And after everything she’d lost, that should have been the only thing I noticed.
The guilt arrived immediately afterwards.
Right on schedule.
⸻
“So.”
Sofia looked between us.
That tone never led anywhere good.
“When are we doing this again?”
I nearly choked on my drink.
Across the table Emily looked equally alarmed.
A rare moment of unity.
“We’re not.”
“We might.”
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
Emily’s head snapped towards me.
Traitor.
Absolute traitor.
Sofia beamed.
Victory.
Complete victory.
“I knew it.”
Of course she did.
⸻
After lunch came miniature golf.
Because apparently one bad decision deserved another.
Sofia beat both of us.
Repeatedly.
She celebrated every victory like she’d won an Olympic medal.
I blamed luck.
Emily blamed cheating.
Sofia claimed greatness.
The jury remained out.
⸻
By the seventh hole, Sofia was giving victory speeches.
By the ninth, she’d started offering us coaching advice.
By the twelfth, Emily was laughing so hard she could barely hold the putter.
“You’re encouraging her.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Sofia pointed her golf club at me.
“Christopher understands talent.”
I looked at Emily.
“I think we’ve created a monster.”
“You created the monster.”
“Fair.”
⸻
The afternoon drifted by far too quickly.
The kind of day that feels longer while you’re living it and shorter the second it’s over.
The kind you don’t realise you’ll remember until later.
Much later.
⸻
By the time we walked back towards the car park, the sun had begun to dip lower in the sky.
Sofia was tired.
The good kind of tired.
The kind that came from a day well spent.
She slipped one hand into mine.
Then grabbed Emily’s with the other.
Without thinking.
Without hesitation.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
For a second nobody moved.
Then we kept walking.
Three people.
One shadow stretching across the pavement.
The moment lasted only seconds.
But something about it unsettled me.
Because for the first time all day, I wasn’t thinking about work.
Or responsibility.
Or guilt.
I was thinking about how easy this felt.
And that was a problem.
A very big problem.
I glanced sideways.
Emily was looking down at Sofia.
Smiling.
A small smile.
The kind she probably didn’t realise she was wearing.
The afternoon breeze lifted a few strands of dark hair from her face.
She tucked them behind her ear without looking up.
Simple.
Unconscious.
Ordinary.
I found myself noticing anyway.
Which annoyed me.
Immediately.
Because none of this was supposed to matter.
Not the lunch.
Not the golf.
Not the way Sofia looked happier than she’d been in weeks.
And definitely not the way Emily looked standing beside her.
Some lines existed for a reason.
The trouble was, lately they seemed a little harder to see.
“Christopher?”
I looked down.
Sofia was staring at me.
“What?”
“You stopped walking.”
I realised she was right.
I laughed.
Shook my head.
And started moving again.
“Come on.”
“What were you thinking about?”
Too many things.
None of them safe.
“Mini golf.”
“Liar.”
Emily laughed.
I groaned.
Sofia grinned.
And somehow, despite everything, despite all the reasons it shouldn’t, I found myself smiling too.
- Writer
