Chapter 2
I moved the children inside.
Separate rooms.
No interrogation.
No adult arguments in front of them.
Sophie looked frightened.
I crouched before she left.
“You’re not in trouble.”
She stared at me.
“Mom is.”
“That’s between adults.”
“Because of Noah?”
“No.”
Important.
“Because of choices she made.”
Sophie nodded.
Then whispered:
“She said I had to practice.”
My stomach tightened.
“Practice what?”
Victoria appeared in the doorway.
“Enough.”
I stood.
Sophie looked between us.
Then:
“Being your daughter.”
Silence.
Victoria’s face drained.
I kept my voice calm.
“What does that mean?”
Sophie explained.
At dinners, Victoria corrected how she addressed me.
Not Mr. Marconi.
Not Raffaele.
Eventually:
Dad.
Sophie did not want to.
Victoria told her it would feel natural after the wedding.
Then she told her to sit beside me whenever possible.
Ask me for things.
Hold my hand in photographs.
Stand near Noah so guests would see us as two children joining one family.
None of that was inherently wrong.
Blended families need time.
Then Sophie added:
“And Noah has to get used to not being first.”
There.
That was not blending.
That was replacement disguised as adjustment.
I looked at Victoria.
“Why?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because Sophie has spent nine years being second.”
“To whom?”
Victoria stared.
“Everyone.”
Her father abandoned them.
Her grandparents favored cousins.
Victoria had built her entire life around making sure her daughter would never again feel secondary.
I understood the wound.
Then I looked toward the room where my son sat.
“You decided the cure was making another child second.”
She cried.
May you like
I did not soften.
Explanation was not permission.
