Jeff’s POV
The house had been heavy with unspoken tension since the argument between Emma and her parents.
Every interaction with Emma had felt strained like we were speaking two different languages. She had every right to be upset, I hadn’t been on her side when she needed me most.
That morning, as I straightened my tie in front of the mirror, the thought bothered me. The guilt was relentless, and it had soured everything, including the fragile connection I’d been trying to rebuild with Emma.
She hadn’t even looked at me during breakfast, barely speaking beyond a curt “good morning.” I couldn’t stand this distance anymore.
I ran a hand through my hair, muttering to myself, “You screwed up Jeff. Big time.”
The kids’ laughter floated up from the kitchen, a stark contrast to the tensio
