Matthew didn’t move immediately.
The word he had shouted still seemed to hang somewhere between him and the silence that followed, echoing faintly in the back of his head.
On the other end, Sophie didn’t rush to fill it.
When he finally spoke again, his voice had dropped—lower, tighter, like he was forcing each word through something thick.
“Spending every weekend with you is not possible.”
A faint shift came through the line. Fabric, maybe. Or the sound of her adjusting her position, settling in deeper.
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” he said, sharper now. “Where exactly am I supposed to tell Ava I’m going every weekend?”
Silence stretched.
“And fifty thousand dollars every week?” he continued, pacing now, each step measured but restless. “That’s outrageous, Sophie. Where do you expect me
