Chapter 2
Sophie didn't go upstairs.
She looked at me for a moment, then said,
"I can get a hotel."
I didn't stop her.
I didn't ask her to stay, either.
I stood by the front desk and watched her wheel the overnight bag back through the glass doors.
When they shut behind her, I turned to the woman at the desk.
"Who can add an Authorized Resident?"
"Only the primary account holder."
The primary account holder for 1702 was Ethan.
I didn't ask anything else.
By the time the lock turned that night, it was almost ten.
I was sitting in the living room with one lamp on.
The television was dark.
My bag was still on the dining chair, the white box buried inside it.
Ethan stepped in, saw me, and paused with one hand still on the door.
"You didn't tell me you were already home."
"This is my home."
His expression shifted.
"That's not what I meant."
I put my phone on the coffee table between us.
"You added Sophie as an Authorized Resident?"
He glanced at the screen.
For a few seconds, he didn't answer.
Then he said,
"Yes."
"Why didn't you remove her after she moved out?"
"I forgot."
"It's been months."
"That period was insane, Claire."
"I had a lot going on."
He took off his coat.
I watched him hang it over the back of a chair instead of putting it away.
"You knew she was coming tonight?"
"She has a seven a.m. call."
"So you knew she might sleep here."
He exhaled.
"She's done that before."
"When she lived here."
His jaw tightened.
"She doesn't live here now."
"Claire, it's an old access setting that never got turned off."
I didn't answer.
He set his keys on the console.
Too hard.
In the silence, things I had barely noticed over the past few months surfaced one after another.
Late client prep that kept running past dinner.
Messages from Sophie after midnight.
More client meetings after Chicago.
More presentations.
I had never thought I needed to put those things together.
Until now.
"Did something happen between you and her?"
His face changed.
Barely.
But enough.
"Claire--"
"Answer me."
"It's not what you think."
My fingers curled against my palm.
"What is it, then?"
Ethan took his coat off the chair again, folded it once, then stopped as if he had forgotten what he was doing.
"Last month, there was a client prep that ran late."
I waited.
"Everyone else had left."
"Sophie was having a rough time."
"We talked for a while."
His eyes dropped briefly to the floor.
Then came back to mine.
"And we kissed."
For a second, the room felt too quiet.
The refrigerator compressor kicked on in the kitchen.
I heard the soft tick of the wall clock above the dining table.
I heard my own breath catch.
"Who kissed who first?"
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment.
"Does that matter?"
"Everything matters now."
He didn't answer.
My gaze moved past him to the hallway.
The guest room was at the end of it.
The same guest room Sophie had planned to sleep in tonight.
"You kissed her."
He stayed silent.
"And after that, you still let her keep access to my home?"
"Claire, those are two separate things."
"The access came from you."
"Yes."
"You crossed a line with her."
"It was a mistake."
"And after that mistake, nothing changed."
His expression hardened.
"She doesn't live here."
"But she could have walked in here tonight."
"She had work in the morning."
I looked at him.
"You kissed her."
Silence.
I waited.
Then I said,
"And she still gets to come back into my home."
Ethan didn't answer.