Page 37 of The Vow Thief
I glanced around the hall, looking for Sean, but he was nowhere in sight.
For a second, I thought about asking Chanelle where he was. I wanted to see him one more time, to say something that wasn’t wrapped in sarcasm or defiance. Maybe even to tell him that I wanted... something. Whatever this thing between us was that kept threading itself through silence and orders.
He should have been here.
Just one look, one word, and I’d know if any of it had meant anything to him at all.
But the hallway stayed empty.
I felt the sting of it more than I wanted to. So I did what I do best. I buried it.
Straightening my spine, I forced a slow smile.“Let’s get this over with,” I said, and walked past the guards toward the exit, pretending I didn’t already regret leaving without seeing him.
The guards flanked me as we walked down the corridor. Every locked door we passed felt like punctuation on the sentence I was leaving behind.
Outside, the sunlight hit hard, too bright after weeks of filtered air and concrete walls. The limousine waited at the curb, glossy and pretentious, the kind of vehicle that announced ownership before anyone stepped inside.
The driver opened the door without looking at me. I slid across the leather seat and watched the gate close behind us.
Chicago rose in pieces outside the tinted glass. Blocks of gray and glass and noise, all moving too fast for anyone to notice they were trapped, too.
My father’s compound sat on the edge of Lincoln Park, pretending to be a mansion. Others called it grand, timeless, and elegant. I knew better.
It wasn’t a home. It was a monument to control. Every stone in its walls was paid for with silence.
As the car turned onto the long drive, I pressed my fingers to the glass, catching my reflection in the window.
The face staring back at me didn’t look like a daughter going home.
She looked like a deal being delivered.
Chapter 18 - Goodbye to Old Ghosts
Matt packed the last of his boxes in silence. The walls of the apartment were already stripped of him, pale rectangles where frames had hung, a dent in the drywall from when he had dropped a suitcase during the move-in. It looked like a place that had been temporarily borrowed, not lived in.
He closed the final box and sat back on his heels. When Holloway called to reinstate the relocation offer, he had not hesitated. There was nothing left to keep him here. Sarah had reissued the divorce papers two weeks ago, the signature lines cleaner this time, her handwriting steadier.
They had agreed on everything. Joint custody. Rotating weekends. Summer vacations split evenly. The kind of civilized plan divorced people bragged about to hide the quiet ache underneath. He would get less time with Tommy and Emily, and that was the part that gutted him.
The rest, Sarah moving on, another man eventually sitting across from her at the dinner table, maybe helping with homework or fixing the faucet, it was inevitable. He had made peace with being replaced. He had to. He had built the conditions for it himself.
He looked around the room one last time. The faint smell of takeout and detergent. A single coffee mug on the counter. No photos. No warmth. Just a man’s empty reset.
Matt grabbed his keys, took one last slow breath, and headed for the door.
The drive to Sarah’s house was short, but his mind stretched the distance. Every memory seemed to line the road. Emily in her soccer cleats. Tommy singing off-key in the backseat. Sarah’s hand resting on the console during road trips. He pulled into the driveway and sat for a moment before killing the engine.
When he stepped inside, it smelled like home again. Pancakes and crayons and something floral that always clung to Sarah’s sweaters.
“Dad!” Tommy’s voice hit first, followed by the rapid patter of feet. He barreled down the hallway, socks sliding on hardwood, grin wide enough to make Matt’s chest ache. Emily was not far behind, pigtails bouncing.
Matt crouched down, catching both of them at once, letting the collision knock him backward onto the floor.“Hey, hey, easy. You’ll break me before I make it out of the state.”
Emily giggled.“You can’t break, Dad. You fix stuff.”
Matt laughed.“Yeah? Then you'd better call Marvel. I need my own movie.”
Tommy grinned and launched into an exaggerated superhero pose, arms flexed.“The Incredible Dad.”
