Unmatched Wife: Not His To Claim Anymore novel Chapter 152

Chapter 152

Chapter 152

MATTHEW

The alarm went off at six–fifteen, which was earlier than necessary but had become my default over th past months–the extra time built in for the unpredictability of mornings with a four–year–old who has strong opinions about which socks were acceptable and which were categorically not

I was already awake when it sounded

I’d been awake for most of the night, which was becoming a pattern I needed to address before became a problem. Not the catastrophic sleeplessness of the worst months, when I’d lain in the dark and let the guilt run laps through my mind until dawn made it marginally easier to breathe. This was different—a functional alertness, mind working steadily through what I knew and what i didn’t know and what I was going to do about the gap between them.

By the time I got up I’d made a list.

The list had seven items, and I’d addressed two of them mentally before I’d even reached the kitchen B the time the coffee was made I had working approaches to four more. The seventh–what to do abour the specific texture of Thorne Lockwood’s interest in my family–remained stubbornly unres

was why I’d built extra time into the morning. Some problems clarified when you gave them space and movement rather than lying still and thinking at them.

I heard Theo before I saw him–the particular thump of small feet on the landing that had become one or the organizing sounds of my daily life, the auditory equivalent of a flag going up. He appeared in the kitchen doorway still in his pajamas, hair entirely unmanaged, carrying the Triceratops in one hand and

what appeared to be both of Daniel’s borrowed books tucked under his other arm.

“You have school today,” I said.

He set the books carefully on the counter, well away from the coffee. He’d learned about liquids important things through a single instructive incident three months ago and had not repeated the stake. “Can I have the cereal with the blue pieces?”

“If you get dressed first

Im going to eat or

“You’re going

He conside

Get dressed.”

ed and then eat.”

her this was worth contesting, decided it wasn’t, and disappeared back upstairs. I of his morning by sound–drawers opening, the particular complaint of the wardrobe hits hinge adjusted, a brief silence that probably involved the sock situation, then

eddressed, which was the operative achievement. The shirt was on correctly. The trousers

es he’d wanted. The socks, I noticed when he climbed onto his chair, were two different

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shades of blue, which he either hadn’t noticed or had decided was acceptable.

“Good,” I said, pouring his cereal.

“The blue pieces are mostly at the bottom,” he observed, peering into the bowl.

“That’s the blue piece distribution system. They put them at the bottom so you have something to look

forward to

He looked at me with the expression he used when he was deciding whether I was being serious. “That’s

not real”

“It might be real *

“It’s not.” But he picked up his spoon, which was the important outcome.

We ate together in the comfortable quiet that had become one of the things I valued most about mornings–Theo focused on his cereal with the dedicated attention he brought to things he genuinely enjoyed, me with my coffee and the low–level background hum of the day’s agenda organizing itself in my mind

“Daddy so said, after several minutes of companionable silence. “Sophie asked if I could come for a

sle

“A sleepover.”

Hermum sai

casualness, whi

the right register

he said I should ask you.” He was eating his cereal with thinking about how to present this and had decided casual She says it sleeps on the bed.”

Does it ”

“She says

That

uch room.” He glanced up. “I’ve never had a sleepover before.”

es, as I’d come to think of them–riod of our family life that existed

apart–had not included sleepover

y and absent in attention, and th

itself the way it should have.

bout it,” I said.

bing this with more equa

ng your answer soon

is tone made m

would

en managing too much, I ing of a normal family life had

ted. “Okay.” A pause. “But I want you to

ow soon is soon?”

real. “Sophie’s mum said Friday would work, if that

persaleid

Ginestly an e

tand THE SAMASed to the paralle

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My Clean arrange than token tike

hayased in yesterday, t

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込 is a true trio understand when ted shitted

The newer van was the friends Sophie and Daniel, sitting beside him at recess, treating his des with wroga sveness, being the kind of friends Dr. Fisher had told me he needed- beple who showed up to his comer without being asked, it had done something, having them there.

Mad given heen some traction against the grief that still occasionally threatened to pull him under

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“The friends have made a real difference,” she said, which was what I’d concluded and was glad to have confirmed by someone who watched him more objectively than i could.

“Sophie and Daniel,” I said. “They sought him out?”

“Sophie first. She’s a natural connector–she noticed he was sitting alone and decided to do something

Mrs. Patterson’s expression was warm. “Daniel followed Sophie, as Daniel tends to He’s quieter, but he and Theo have developed a specific common interest in-

“Dinosaurs.” I said

59

“Dinosaurs,” she confirmed. “I’ve learned more about Cretaceous fauna in the past two weeks than in my

previous fifteen years of teaching.”

I thanked her, gathered the report cards, and left.

The office building felt different than it had when I’d returned from BloodMoon City. Not different in its physical arrangement

Marcus had been.