The Quiet Between

Chapter Seven Cameron

Chapter Seven

Cameron

Iwoke up exhausted, tired down to the marrow of my bones.

It wasn’t the kind of tiredness a few extra hours of sleep could fix.

Maybe this was what people meant when they said that when the mind is worn thin, the body follows.

That mental fatigue could seep into your limbs, settle in your muscles, and make every breath feel like an effort.

I hadn’t run a marathon or stayed up all night, but somehow I felt like I’d done both. Over and over again.

Glancing to my side, I saw Evie still asleep. Peaceful. Unaware.

I looked at her, and the troubled thoughts crept back in.

I reminded myself of the decision I made. I hadn’t stumbled into it blindly. I chose this.

And I wanted to own it.

So why did it still feel like one of those moments in life when everything was just... wrong?

Why did it feel like part of me—my heart, my soul—was somewhere else entirely?

I let out a soft groan as I pushed myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

By the time I was dressed, Evie stirred, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Where are you going? It’s your day off today.”

“It’s Saturday. I want to spend time with Harper,” I said, pulling my shirt over my head.

“So, you’re heading to Sloane’s?” Her voice was tight, clipped.

“Yes.”

She was quiet for a beat. “How long will you be there?”

“I planned the whole day with Harper. I miss her so much.”

I hadn’t asked Sloane yet, but I planned to beg for it again and again until she said yes.

“Just Harper?”

That’s when I turned to her, irritation creeping into my voice, my face already giving me away.

“What exactly are you trying to say, Evie?”

She shrugged. “It’s just...” She let out a slow sigh. “I don’t know how I feel about you spending the whole day there... with her.”

“Her, meaning...?” I prompted, already knowing the answer.

“Sloane. Is it her day off, too?”

“Yes,” I said, because Sloane and I had always aligned our schedules. We hadn’t changed that yet.

“Can you take Harper to your apartment?” she asked, eyes fixed on me. “Or... you could bring her here. I want to meet her.”

I stared at her, anger rising. “Tell me you’re not fucking serious, Evie.”

She crawled across the bed toward me, looking up, pleading. “You said you’re with me, Cam. You said you told her about us. That you’re getting a divorce.”

“And now you expect me to do what with Harper? Drop the news on her like, ‘Hey, this is your dad’s girlfriend’?”

“She’s got to find out about me sometime, right?”

“She doesn’t even know her parents are separated, Evie. These things can’t be rushed. It takes time.”

“But I’m still not okay with you being at her house all day with her there.” She scowled.

“Sometimes Harper asks to go out.”

“Then take her somewhere, spend the whole day there.”

My brows drew together, jaw tightening. “It still can’t be the whole day, Evie. She’s five. She’ll get tired.”

She paused, eyes searching mine as if weighing something, then said softly, “Then does it have to be the entire day?”

A quiver ran through my hands. I was barely holding it together. Through gritted teeth, I said,

“I’m going to spend the entire day with my daughter. Even an entire week if I want to, if Sloane lets me. And if you’re trying to stop me, Evie, then you’ve seriously misunderstood your place in all of this.”

I stormed into the living room, grabbed my shoes, slipped them on hastily, and searched for my car keys. When I found them, Evie was standing in front of her bedroom door.

“I’ve been patient, Cam,” she said sharply. “Patient, because even when you left home for the past month, you never really left. You were always there, at her place early in the morning and again until late at night. You spend more time with her. You work with her. She’s in every part of your day.”

She stepped closer, and I could see the fury burning in her eyes.

“When she had a problem with her house alarm, you ran over like a madman. When she needed something from the store, you dropped everything. Even in the middle of the night.”

“She asked me to get paracetamol for Harper. Of course, I ran there instantly.”

Evie’s voice rose, cracking with emotion. “You’re here, but you’re not really here, Cam. I accepted you spending all your days off at her place before because I knew I was a secret. But now you said you told her, and nothing has changed.”

We stood face-to-face, locked in a standoff. My hands went to my waist. “What do you want from me, Evie?”

Her voice dropped, trembling slightly. “You said you’re with me. You chose me.” She took a breath. “Prove it.”

“I am here with you. Isn’t that proof enough?”

She shook her head.

“Not when she’s always on your mind. Not when I catch you staring into space, lost in thoughts far away. I know you’re thinking of her. You still love her, Cam. I know you tried with me, but you can’t. You just can’t let go.”

Her hands shot up in anger. “Hell, you said her name when we were fucking, Cam!”

Yeah, that was... I didn’t even know what that was. But one thing I was sure of: I was tired of this conversation.

With a weary shake of my head, I headed for the door before I said, “I can’t deal with this right now.

You’re asking for something I can’t give.

My time with my daughter is non-negotiable.

My days off are for Harper, as much as Sloane allows, and I will keep picking her up and driving her to my mom’s and back. ”

I pressed down on the door handle and pushed it open.

“You’re the one who needs to rethink this, Evie.”

Then I stepped out of her house and closed the door behind me.

It was still early in the morning, and I hoped Sloane hadn’t taken Harper anywhere yet.

It felt awkward to be just a visitor now. Even though I had been away from home for a month, I used to come and go as I pleased. Now I didn’t have my own keys anymore.

I took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. Sloane was a light sleeper, so even if she were still asleep, she would hear it right away.

There was no response from inside, so I pressed the bell again. Then I heard footsteps running down the stairs. Moments later, Sloane opened the door in her sleep shirt and pajama shorts, still half-asleep.

She looked at me, then turned away without a word, leaving the door open.

“I want to spend time with Harper,” I said quietly to her back as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. “If it’s okay with you, I want to spend the entire day with her.”

That made her stop in her tracks. She spun around to face me, her eyes flashing.

“You know this is my day off, too, right? I spend just as much time with her as you do. This is my day with Harper.”

“Please, Sloane. I miss her so much.”

“And why is that? Oh, right. Because you left.”

She turned and marched back upstairs, but not before shouting over her shoulder, “Go back to wherever you came from, Cam.”

I stood there for a long moment, a heavy emotion pressing down on me. Exhaustion gnawed at my resolve, but giving up was not an option. I needed to be with Harper. Determined, I slipped off my shoes quietly and made my way up the stairs for the slight chance to reclaim some of the time I had lost.

But Harper wasn’t in her room.

I knew right away she must have had a nightmare last night. Harper always went to her mom when that happened.

I walked to Sloane’s bedroom—once ours—and gently pushed the door open, half-expecting her to hurl something my way for having the audacity to step inside.

And then I saw them.

Harper was asleep on her back, mouth slightly open, one leg propped up on a pillow. Sloane was curled into a ball beside her, her face tucked into the crook of Harper’s neck.

Looking at them, my heart softened and broke all at once.

I missed being there on Harper’s other side, breathing in her sweet baby scent and simply watching them both, love swelling in my chest. What I loved most was when Harper slept on her side, facing me, while Sloane spooned her from behind, her arms stretched out with one hand resting gently on my waist.

And suddenly, I remembered.

I remembered how Sloane’s hand would always find me, seeking a place to hold, a tender link between us.

Even in silence, weighed down by the distance between us, her touch would settle gently on my arm, the back of my hand, my waist, or my back until sleep claimed her, as if feeling me was the only thing that could lull her to rest.

A sudden tightness gripped my chest as emotions surged unexpectedly.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“What are you doing there?” Sloane’s sharp whisper cut through the silence, pulling me back.

She glared at me, hair tousled and eyes heavy with sleep, yet she was as beautiful as ever.

“I want to be with my daughter, Sloane,” I pleaded softly. “I really miss her.”

She studied my face for a moment, then sighed, as if something she saw made her give in. “You can sit on her other side, but only sitting, Cam. Once she wakes, you can spend the day with us at home. That’s my final offer. I’m being very generous.”

God, it felt like I was being handed the entire world.

I moved quickly to the other side of the bed, afraid she might change her mind.

Lowering myself slowly beside Harper, I made sure not to wake her.

Then I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead and closed my eyes, letting it linger for a moment too long.

When I pulled away, Sloane was watching me. She didn’t say a word.

“You want to go back to sleep?” I asked softly.

She nodded.

“Then sleep, Sloane. I’ll stay quiet.”

Sloane closed her eyes again. The shadows beneath them told me she was exhausted, running on little rest. And the way she pinched her eyes shut, as if she had to fight for sleep, told me it didn’t come easily anymore.

I stretched my arm over the pillow above Harper’s head, letting my hand rest gently beside hers. Then I took Sloane’s hand and placed it softly on top of mine. She shifted her hand, curling her fingers around my wrist instead—a soft, subtle resistance.

And little by little, the tightness in her face began to soften.

Minutes later, she drifted off.

When Harper woke up, Sloane was still asleep. My daughter climbed onto me with a burst of excitement, yelling, “Daddy!”

Sloane didn’t even stir from all the noise, which told me just how exhausted she was. Harper immediately demanded breakfast, so I scooped her up and carried her downstairs to the kitchen.

I made her scrambled eggs—she always said mine were the best—and toasted two slices of bread, spreading her favorite strawberry jam across both.

Then we sat side by side at our small dining table, eating breakfast together. Harper’s eyes sparkled as she talked nonstop about a school project she was really excited about.

“It’s about flowers, Daddy! We have to find different kinds of flowers outside and draw them,” she said, her little hands moving excitedly. “I want to find a big yellow one because it’s so bright and happy!”

“Did you find it?” I asked, smiling from ear to ear, watching her energy spill over the table.

“Yes!” Harper bounced up and down in her seat, her eyes wide with excitement. “Miss Tina helped me find it!”

“Where is it? Can I see it?” I asked.

“It’s still at school. I’ll bring it home later, okay?” she said, still beaming.

I kissed her cheek, unable to resist. “Okay, I can’t wait, sweetie!”

“Yeah!” She grinned.

We finished breakfast, and Harper climbed onto her little stool to help me rinse the plates before we loaded them into the dishwasher. Then we moved to the living room, where she kept chattering away about her school. She loved it there, and hearing that filled me with a tender kind of joy.

Sloane finally made her way down the stairs just as noon settled in. Harper had already taken her shower, and we were both busy in the kitchen preparing lunch.

She approached her daughter slowly and wrapped her arms around her in a gentle, motherly embrace. With a soft sigh, she whispered, “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, Mommy,” Harper replied, her voice warm and sweet.

“Who has my heart, baby?” Sloane murmured into her ear, a question she asked Harper every day—sometimes several times a day.

“I do,” Harper answered softly.

Sloane smiled contentedly, needing to hear those words. And Harper knew exactly how much her mother needed her to say them.

“We’re making spaghetti carbonara,” I told Sloane. She nodded in reply.

“Need my help?” she asked.

“Nope, we’re good.” I glanced at Harper. “Right, sweetie?”

“Yep,” she said with a big grin.

“Alright, I’m going to take a shower,” Sloane said, turning toward the stairs.

“Okay,” I replied.

Sloane came downstairs just as the spaghetti finished cooking. She headed to the kitchen and took a few minutes to toss together a salad, determined to ensure Harper ate her vegetables. Then the three of us sat down for lunch.

It felt like the old days—the happier ones.

Afterward, we settled in front of the TV and put on a Disney movie; Harper curled up between us. One movie turned into two, then three. None of us moved much. It felt natural, like slipping back into something we used to be.

For dinner, Harper asked for pizza—her usual favorite. I added a chocolate sundae to the order, and she rewarded me with a big, messy kiss on the cheek. It probably wasn’t the best idea to give a five-year-old that much sugar for dinner, but I couldn’t help myself. And Sloane didn’t object.

When it was time for bed, Sloane let me handle Harper’s bedtime routine. I tucked her in and lay beside her, reading The Snail and the Whale until her eyes fluttered shut.

When I finally made my way downstairs, my heart grew heavier with each step.

Sloane was at the dining table, a glass of wine in her hand. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and poured myself a drink. Then I sat across from her. Our eyes met, held, but neither of us spoke.

After finishing my wine, I stood, walked over to her, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, my hand resting gently on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “Today was beautiful for me.”

Then I left, my head hung low as I stepped outside. Sloane didn’t say a word. She just watched me go.

In the car, I pulled my phone from my coat pocket. I hadn’t touched it all day, trusting the hospital pager to alert me if anything urgent came up, even from home. Today demanded my full attention, and I couldn’t afford distractions.

Four missed calls from Evie.

Six messages.

I read only the last one: I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more understanding.

I didn’t reply. I powered off the phone, tossed it onto the passenger seat, and drove back to my apartment.

Tonight, I just needed to be alone.