Lights glowed from every window. Laughter spilled faintly through the walls. Cars lined the driveway—more than usual. Evelyn always believed that “early arrivals show true enthusiasm.”
I let myself in through the mudroom, quietly, almost playfully. I wanted to surprise them. I wanted to surprise him.
My boots clicked softly against the slate floor as I stepped inside.
The smell hit me first—pine, cinnamon, bourbon.
Home.
Or at least, what I thought was home.
Then I heard his voice.
Ethan.
Not the version I’d been living with—the distracted, distant man who barely looked up from his phone.
No.