Chapter Thirteen - Daniel
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Daniel
HE WASN’T THE first man to cheat.
People worked through this.
Marriages survived.
She just needed to see him, to look at him, and realize this wasn’t as bad as she thought.
He slowed as he turned onto James and Mia’s street, his chest tightening as he pulled up in front of their house. Hannah’s car was parked outside.
She was here.
A strange relief hit him—she was safe , at least.
He climbed out of the car, ran a hand through his hair, and forced himself toward the front steps. He hadn’t figured out what he was going to say yet, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to see her.
He had to see her.
Daniel knocked.
A beat of silence.
Then the door swung open, and Mia stood there, arms crossed, eyes rimmed red.
Daniel exhaled. “Mia, I—”
“No.”
His jaw tensed. “She’s here, isn’t she?”
Mia just stood there, shoulders squared, blocking the doorway.
Daniel felt his patience fraying. “Look, I need to see her. She’s my wife .”
Mia’s mouth tightened. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
His chest constricted, but he forced himself to breathe through it. “Mia, I just—”
“I don’t know what happened,” Mia cut in, voice sharper now. “She wouldn’t tell me. But she was crying when she showed up, Daniel. She’s never like that. And if you’re the reason for that—” She stopped herself, inhaling through her nose, as if reigning in something worse.
Daniel clenched his jaw. He needed to see Hannah, to talk to her, to fix this.
“She’s upset,” he said, his voice lowering, trying to push back against the rising frustration. “I get it. But this isn’t something she can just shut me out over. We need to talk.”
Mia didn’t budge. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Not tonight.” She held his gaze for another second, then stepped back and shut the door in his face.
Daniel just stood there, staring at the closed door, his mind struggling to wrap around what had just happened.
He hadn’t even seen Hannah.
This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
She was his wife .
She had made a commitment .
She couldn’t just shut him out .
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He had been prepared for yelling, for screaming, for her to throw things at him. Not this. Not complete and utter silence.
Daniel exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. He just needed to think. To figure out his next move.
The porch light flicked on.
His head snapped up, hope flaring.
Hannah?
The front door opened again.
Not Hannah.
James.
Daniel waited as his friend stepped outside, moving with slow, deliberate strides.
James wasn’t the loud, aggressive type. He was steady. Measured. Never the first to jump into a fight.
Which made the look on his face even worse.
James didn’t speak.
Didn’t slow.
Not until he was in Daniel’s space and James’ fist was slamming into his gut.
Pain exploded through his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs. He stumbled back, a choked sound escaping as he doubled over, his hand instinctively bracing against the porch railing.
He gasped, trying to suck in air, but his diaphragm wouldn’t cooperate.
James took a step back, shaking out his fist. His expression didn’t change.
“You made your wife cry,” he said. “And that made my wife cry.”
He stared down at Daniel, breath sharp. “You don’t get to make my wife cry, Daniel.”
Daniel coughed, struggling to straighten. His stomach was twisted in pain.
His hands clenched against the car. “I just—I need to see her.”
James’ expression was ice-cold. “What you need is to leave. Like Mia already told you.”
James had always been his friend.
Daniel swallowed, his ribs aching with each breath. “James—”
“Go home, Daniel.”
A warning. A command.
James didn’t wait for him to argue. He turned and walked back inside, leaving Daniel standing in the driveway, his ribs burning, his throat tight.