Chapter Six - Kate
CHAPTER SIX
Kate
The scent of Leah’s vanilla candle filled the small guest room, thick and cloying, making it hard for Kate to breathe. Or maybe it wasn’t the candle. Maybe it was everything else—the way her chest felt tight, hollow, like she was bracing for something she couldn’t fully process yet.
The suitcase sat open on the bed, clothes haphazardly folded, more shoved in than packed. The kids’ things were mixed with hers—Lily’s hoodie, Noah’s earbuds tangled in a mess of shirts and socks. Nothing felt organized. Nothing felt right.
It had been three days since she’d left the house. Since the hotel room. Since James.
The memory was raw, too sharp to let in fully. So she focused on the present, on the small tasks, as if staying busy might keep her from falling apart completely.
Outside the closed door, she could hear Leah in the kitchen with the kids, her voice calm, steady. At least someone had it together.
Kate inhaled shakily, folding one of Lily’s shirts just as the door creaked open.
“Mom?”
Lily stood there, small and uncertain. Her hair was a little tangled, cheeks flushed pink from helping Leah unpack groceries.
Kate forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Lily hovered in the doorway, her brows drawn together in that way she got when she was confused but didn’t know how to ask.
“Is Dad coming here too?”
The question hit like a physical blow.
Kate’s throat closed for a heartbeat, the words getting stuck. She forced herself to keep folding, smoothing the soft fabric of Lily’s shirt as if it mattered.
“No, honey. Your dad’s staying at home for now.”
Lily frowned. “But…why?”
Kate’s vision blurred as she crouched to eye level, pressing a hand gently to her daughter’s cheek.
“It’s…complicated, Lils.” Her voice cracked. “Your father and I just need some space right now. But we both love you. That’s never going to change, okay?”
Lily nodded, but the sadness in her eyes was too wise for twelve.
“Do you want to help me with the laundry?” Kate asked, forcing brightness into her voice.
Lily nodded again, smaller this time, and climbed onto the bed to fold socks beside her.
Kate kept her hands moving, folding, smoothing, pressing fabric into neat piles. Keep moving. Stay busy.
The door opened a second time.
Noah.
Kate knew before she even looked up—the way the air shifted, heavier. His footsteps were sharper, his presence louder even when he said nothing.
“Hey, bud,” Kate said carefully. “You need something?”
Noah’s arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw tight, the glare already set on his face.
“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “I need to know when we’re going back home. ”
Kate swallowed hard, trying to meet his gaze without crumbling.
“I—I don’t know yet. We’re just staying here for a little while. Until things settle.”
Noah’s scowl deepened. “Settle from what , Mom? What are we even doing here ?”
Lily flinched beside her, shrinking into herself.
“Noah—”
“Seriously! You’re making us live at Aunt Leah’s like we’re on some kind of punishment. Why ?”
Kate felt the sting in her chest, sharp and twisting. She forced herself to stay calm. Steady.
“I told you. Your dad and I—”
“Are fighting? Is that it?” Noah’s voice rose. “You’re mad at him so you made us leave? What did he even do? ”
Kate opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.
How could she tell him the truth without shattering him too? Without planting images he’d never unsee?
She shook her head. “This isn’t about punishment, Noah. Things between your father and I are—complicated.”
His jaw clenched.
“Yeah, well, seems pretty simple to me,” he snapped. “You’re the one who left. Not him.”
Lily let out a tiny whimper, and Kate’s heart cracked right down the middle.
“Noah—please, not in front of your sister.”
But Noah wasn’t listening. His eyes were bright with unshed tears, anger masking everything softer underneath.
“We were fine,” he hissed. “Our family was fine until you made it weird. And now you’re dragging us out of our house, acting like we’re the ones who did something wrong. Dad didn’t even—”
“Stop!” Kate’s voice broke, harsher than she meant, but it was the only way to cut him off before he said something he couldn’t take back.
The silence afterward felt heavy, awful.
Noah stared at her, chest heaving.
Lily buried her face in the shirt she had been folding.
Kate closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself not to cry, not to break, not to fall apart in front of her children.
When she opened them, her voice was softer, but no less strained.
“I’m sorry, Noah. I know this is hard. I know . But this isn’t about you. Or Lily. This is between your dad and me. And I’m asking you—please—just trust me right now. Okay?”
Noah didn’t respond.
He just shook his head, backing out of the room, shoulders tense as he stormed down the hall.
The bedroom door didn’t slam.
But it might as well have.
Lily peeked up at her, voice small.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
Kate swallowed hard, pressing a hand over her chest where the ache was strongest.
“I’m okay, baby,” she whispered, even though it wasn’t true.
Not even close.
She had built her whole life around being a wife, a mother.
And now?
Now it felt like all of it was crumbling.
And she wasn’t sure who she was without it.
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The car was too quiet.
Kate gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, her knuckles pale as she navigated the stop-and-go traffic toward the high school. The only sound was the faint whir of the heater and the occasional squeak of windshield wipers.
Noah sat in the passenger seat, earbuds jammed in, head angled toward the window like the entire world beyond the glass was more interesting than acknowledging her presence. His arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw tight. The same tense, silent defiance he’d been wearing since…
Since everything .
Lily was in the backseat, her pink lunchbox clutched to her lap. She’d tried to fill the silence earlier, chattering about her choir practice and asking if they could get ice cream later, but eventually, even she had quieted.
The weight of Noah’s silence was too loud.
Kate swallowed hard, stealing a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. His hair was longer than usual, falling into his face. She’d asked him if he wanted a haircut that morning, but he’d shrugged, barely looking up from his phone.
Everything felt like that lately—small moments that used to be easy, effortless—now sharp and strained, like walking on glass.
He blames you.
The thought sank deep, pressing heavier with every mile closer to the school.
She couldn’t blame him, not really. She hadn’t explained much. Couldn’t. How could she possibly explain something so impossible without breaking his heart?
Her grip on the wheel tightened.
“Hey,” she tried, keeping her voice light, careful. “You okay? You didn’t eat much this morning.”
Noah didn’t answer. Just stared out the window, earbuds still in.
Kate exhaled slowly through her nose, forcing calm. Stay patient.
“Noah, please. I know you’re upset. But I’m still your mom. I—”
“Can we not do this right now?” His voice was low, flat.
Lily flinched in the backseat.
Kate blinked, her hands curling tighter around the steering wheel. “I’m just trying to talk to you, Noah. You can’t shut me out forever.”
He didn’t respond.
And the silence stretched again, even heavier than before.
The high school loomed ahead, the drop-off lane already crowded with cars and clusters of teenagers, the energy of the school morning buzzing around them—so loud and full of life while the inside of the car felt like a void.
Kate pulled to a stop near the curb, her stomach twisting as Noah immediately unbuckled and reached for his backpack without a word.
Emily was standing near the front steps, her long brown hair loose around her shoulders. Noah’s entire posture shifted.
The tension in his shoulders eased. His face—so hard and closed off moments ago—softened, his expression relaxing into something warmer.
Kate watched as he stuffed his phone into his pocket, suddenly more alert, adjusting his cap like he cared how he looked now.
“Hey, bud—”
“I’ll get a ride home with Emily,” he mumbled, already halfway out the door.
Before she could respond, he was gone—slamming the door shut without a backward glance, heading straight toward Emily. Emily’s face lit up when she saw him. She reached for his hand without hesitation, and just like that, the wall he’d built around himself for days seemed to dissolve.
Kate sat frozen behind the wheel, watching them disappear into the crowd.
The ache in her chest deepened—not anger, but something quieter. Sadder.
He could open up. He just wouldn’t open up to her .
“Mom?” Lily’s voice broke the silence, small from the backseat.
Kate blinked, forcing herself back into the present. “Yeah, baby?”
Lily hesitated. “Is Noah mad at us? At me too?”
Kate’s breath caught, heart twisting as she met her daughter’s wide, worried eyes in the rearview mirror.
“No, sweetheart. He’s not mad at you.”
Lily hugged her lunchbox tighter. “But he doesn’t talk anymore.”
“I know,” Kate whispered, her throat thick. “He’s just…he’s having a hard time right now. But it’s not your fault, okay? And it’s not forever.”
Lily nodded, but the sadness lingered.
Kate tried to smile, pushing back the ache in her chest. “Come on. Let’s get you to school. And maybe tonight we’ll get that ice cream you wanted, huh?”
Lily nodded again, this time with a little more brightness.
But as Kate pulled away from the curb, the empty seat beside her, the weight in her chest felt heavier than ever.
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“Have a good day, baby,” Kate whispered, bending to press a kiss to Lily’s cheek.
The middle school parking lot was bustling with the usual chaos of drop-off—cars inching forward in a long, snaking line, backpacks swinging from tiny shoulders as kids streamed toward the front doors in packs.
“Hey, pumpkin.”
James.
He was standing just behind them, hands in the pockets of his coat, his gaze soft as he knelt to Lily’s level.
Lily lit up, her worry melting as she leaned into his hug. “Daddy!”
James hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head with a tenderness that twisted in Kate’s chest.
Kate hadn’t seen him in three days. Hadn’t answered his calls. Hadn’t responded to the endless stream of texts he kept sending.
But now—here he was. Kate shifted her weight, heart pounding as she watched the way his hands curled protectively around their daughter’s back. How natural it looked. How right.
And yet—
He had broken this.
The bell rang, breaking the silence. Lily pulled back, smiling just a little as she waved toward the door.
“I gotta go!”
Kate managed a small wave, watching as her daughter disappeared inside, leaving her alone with James.
James straightened, his gaze hardening as it shifted from tenderness to something else—something raw and demanding .
“We need to talk.”
Kate folded her arms across her chest, every muscle in her body tightening. “I have nothing to say to you, James.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.” His voice was quiet but sharp, the control barely held together. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Ignoring my calls. Not letting me see my kids. I deserve—”
“ Deserve? ” The word flew out before she could stop it, hot and bitter.
James flinched, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“Yes,” he ground out. “I do deserve to see my children. They need stability, Kate. And you taking them away from their home like this? It's not fair to them.”
Kate shook her head, heat prickling beneath her skin. “You’re the one who—”
“Who made a mistake?” He cut her off, stepping closer, voice low and hard. “I know I did, Kate. But you can’t keep punishing me instead of trying to fix this.”
Her pulse hammered in her ears, a bitter laugh escaping her lips before she could stop it.
“ Fix this? You slept with another woman! You made that choice, James. And now you’re standing here acting like I’m the one causing all this pain? Like I forced you to betray me?”
His face twisted, the calm facade finally cracking.
“We were eighteen , Kate. You got pregnant. We got married. It all happened so fast. I didn’t even know who I was yet. It’s like I was trapped—”
The words hit like a physical blow.
Kate blinked, her stomach plunging as the air seemed to rush out of her lungs.
She stared at him, heart thudding so loud it drowned out the chaos of the school parking lot.
“Trapped?” Her voice was barely a whisper now, hollow and disbelieving.
James exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, like he wanted to take the words back—but they were already hanging between them, jagged and unforgivable.
“So…what? Our life? Our marriage ? Our children ? Were all just consequences for you? A mistake you’ve been stuck with for seventeen years?”
His face fell, guilt flooding his expression as he reached for her, softer this time. “No, Kate—God, no. That’s not what I meant—”
But she stepped back, her body trembling with fury and something far worse— devastation .
“You can’t take it back,” she whispered.
“I love you,” James pleaded, voice cracking now. “I love our kids. I just—I was young. I felt like I lost part of myself. That’s not your fault. It’s not theirs —I’m just trying to be honest.”
Her voice was cold, cutting.
“Well, congratulations, James. You’ve finally told the truth.”
He was already opening his mouth to say whatever new hurtful words he had for her, when Kate turned and walked back to her car.
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Leah’s kitchen felt too bright that morning, the pale sunlight streaking across the countertops, catching the unwashed mugs from the night before. The scent of coffee hung heavy in the air, bitter and sharp in a way that made Kate’s stomach twist unpleasantly.
She grimaced, pressing a hand to her abdomen as another wave of nausea rolled over her.
It’s just stress.
Of course it was.
The tension hadn’t let up since she’d left that New York hotel. The constant ache in her chest, the weight pressing against her ribs—it was all consuming. Some days, it felt like she was just… pushing through , holding herself together because there wasn’t another choice.
She hadn’t slept much the past few nights either. Not with Noah barely speaking to her and Lily clinging too tight, asking questions she didn’t have answers for.
No wonder she felt off.
Kate poured herself a cup of coffee out of habit, but the scent hit her stomach wrong again. She set the mug down untouched, shaking her head.
Probably just the lingering nausea from not eating enough. She had skipped dinner last night, the ache in her chest making food feel impossible.
It was just stress.
The headache pressing behind her eyes? Stress.
The exhaustion dragging her limbs heavier than usual? Stress.
The dizziness when she stood up too fast? Definitely stress.
There was too much to do to let this get the better of her. Laundry. Meal prep. She needed to pick up groceries, she couldn’t keep letting Leah feed them all. Lily’s choir rehearsal was that night. And Noah—God, Noah—
Her stomach flipped again, this time so hard she had to steady herself against the edge of the counter, swallowing down the bitter taste rising in her throat.
“Seriously?” she muttered under her breath.
Kate turned away from the counter, breathing through her nose, pressing her hand against her stomach again.
It’s fine. Stress does this. You’re just—off balance. Run down.
She could hear Leah’s voice in her head. You’ve been through hell, Kate. Of course you feel like crap.
Still. The nausea wasn’t letting up.
Kate pulled open the fridge, staring blankly at the rows of yogurt cups and leftovers, hoping something would spark her appetite. But the sight of the eggs turned her stomach. So did the scent of the oranges.
She shut the door too quickly, pressing her palm against the cool stainless steel, heart thudding.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just stress. Maybe she was coming down with something. A stomach bug. Or maybe her body was just—adjusting.
The past few days had been chaos. Nights crying silently into her pillow. Holding Lily when she asked for Daddy. Avoiding James’s texts when they arrived, just his name on the screen making her chest ache.
It was bound to take a toll.
She just needed to take better care of herself. Eat properly. Sleep.
Her hand brushed across her stomach again. No. Not that. It’s stress. She shut the thought down before it could fully form.
Her stomach twisted again, sharper this time.
Kate gritted her teeth, shoving the thought down as she straightened her spine.
It wasn’t that. It couldn’t be.
She was fine .
Stress could do this. Mess up cycles. Make your body act strange.
It was stress.
It had to be.
She grabbed the coffee mug and dumped it in the sink. She didn’t have time to fall apart now.