Chapter 4

Cold air bit against James' skin as consciousness drifted in and out.

"...James?"

A voice cut through the haze.

Heavy footsteps approached before stopping beside him.

"Damn."

James forced one eye open.

A familiar face blurred above him.

Mark.

Even through the alcohol and exhaustion, James recognized him instantly.

Mark crouched slightly, staring down at him with disbelief.

"You look like absolute hell."

James tried to laugh but failed halfway through.

Mark sighed deeply before reaching down and pulling him upright.

"Come on."

"I can walk."

"You are barely breathing."

James didn't argue after that.

The casino valet rushed to open the car door while Mark practically shoved James into the passenger seat.

During the drive, James drifted in and out again.

At some point, Mark searched through his pockets for the house key.

"You still keeping everything in the same pocket?" Mark muttered.

James barely responded.

The mansion gates slowly opened ahead of them.

Mark stared briefly at the massive property before driving inside.

Even now, even falling apart, the Sterling estate still looked untouchable.

Mark got James inside with considerable effort.

Lisa's school shoes were still sitting near the staircase.

A tiny backpack rested neatly against the wall.

The sight made James feel sick again.

Mark dragged him upstairs, dropped him onto the bed, then pulled the blanket over him roughly.

"You smell like bad decisions."

James groaned into the pillow.

Mark stayed anyway.

The next morning felt violent.

James woke up with a sharp pain splitting through his skull.

For several seconds he simply stared upward at the ceiling unable to think properly.

Then slowly—

Fragments returned.

The lawyer.

The park.

Lisa asking if her mother was dead.

The casino.

Losing everything.

James shut his eyes again immediately.

His stomach twisted painfully.

Then faintly—

Laughter.

James frowned.

Another laugh echoed from downstairs.

Small.

Bright.

Lisa.

James forced himself upright slowly before stepping out of bed.

Every movement punished him.

As he walked downstairs, another smell reached him.

Warm.

Rich.

Food.

Real food.

James slowed slightly.

The closer he got to the kitchen, the stranger the scene became.

Lisa sat on the counter laughing loudly while Mark stood near the stove flipping pancakes badly.

One side was slightly burned.

"Dad!"

Lisa spotted him first.

"You sleep a lot."

Mark glanced over his shoulder.

"You look worse awake."

James ignored him.

Instead, he stood there silently watching them.

Lisa was laughing.

Actually laughing.

Not the careful little smiles she'd been forcing since Kate left.

Real laughter.

The sound filled the enormous kitchen strangely, like the house itself had forgotten what happiness sounded like.

Then the smell hit him again.

Home-cooked food.

James froze slightly.

Two months.

It had been almost two months since he'd smelled breakfast inside this house.

At first Kate stopped cooking occasionally.

Then completely.

Takeout became normal.

Microwave dinners became normal.

Distance became normal.

James slowly realized something horrifying.

The marriage hadn't ended last week.

It ended months ago.

He just hadn't noticed.

Or maybe he noticed and chose not to look too closely.

Mark placed a plate in front of Lisa.

"Don't make that face," he said without looking at James. "I can literally hear you thinking."

James rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"I missed everything."

Mark finally looked at him properly then.

"Yeah," he said honestly. "You did."

Later that morning, James stood near the massive front window watching Lisa climb onto the school bus.

Her tiny backpack bounced against her shoulders as she walked.

Before stepping inside, she suddenly turned and waved excitedly toward the house.

James forced himself to wave back.

Then he stayed there watching longer than necessary.

The bus doors hadn't fully closed yet.

Children's voices drifted faintly through the open entrance.

"Lisa!"

A little boy waved at her from inside.

"Is that your new dad?"

Lisa blinked.

"What?"

"The tall guy," the boy clarified. "You got two dads now? That's so cool."

James glanced back instinctively toward the kitchen where Mark was cleaning dishes.

Before Lisa could answer, another little girl leaned forward curiously.

"Where's your mommy?"

James froze.

Inside the bus, Lisa puffed her chest proudly and raised her chin.

"She's in space."

The other kids stared at her immediately.

Lisa nodded seriously.

"On a secret mission."

James felt his chest tighten painfully.

"That's why Daddy keeps saying she's in a special place," Lisa continued confidently. "Because it's secret."

A few children gasped softly.

The bus doors finally shut.

And then it pulled away.

James stood there motionless long after it disappeared.

Destroyed and grateful at the same time.

Mark sat across from him in the living room later that afternoon.

No jokes this time.

No sarcasm.

Just silence.

Then finally—

"You done trying to kill yourself?"

James looked away.

Mark leaned forward slightly.

"You throwing your life away is one thing. Throwing Lisa's away too?" He shook his head. "That's pathetic."

James clenched his jaw.

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do."

Mark rarely sounded angry.

That made it worse.

"Do you even understand what happened last night?" Mark continued. "Generational wealth, James. Gone in one night at a casino."

James shut his eyes briefly.

Even hearing it out loud sounded unreal.

Mark reached into his jacket and tossed an envelope onto the table.

James frowned.

"What's this?"

"Money."

James immediately pushed it back.

"No."

"Take it."

"I'm not taking your money."

Mark's expression hardened.

"This isn't charity. It's survival."

Silence filled the room.

"The Sterling Group is collapsing already," Mark continued. "Employees are panicking. Shareholders are nervous. Stabilize the company before rumors spread further."

James stared at the envelope silently.

"A few projects are completing soon," Mark added. "You can recover eventually. It'll take years, but it's possible."

Years.

James exhaled shakily.

Then finally—

"...Okay."

Mark nodded once.

Not satisfied.

But relieved.

A while later he stood near the door preparing to leave.

"Try acting like a father again," he said before walking out.

The front door shut behind him.

Then almost immediately—

Ding dong.

James frowned slightly.

Another doorbell.

He walked toward it slowly before pulling the door open.

The woman from the casino stood there.

The same tight red dress.

Same heels.

Same lazy smile.

Except now she looked different.

Smudged makeup.

Barefoot.

Eyes slightly red.

"I didn't know where else to go," she said softly.

James stared at her blankly.

Then she looked down.

"My boyfriend threw me out last night."

James should've closed the door.

He knew that.

But his mind still felt clouded.

Exhausted.

Broken open.

And loneliness made stupid decisions sound reasonable.

So instead—

He stepped aside.

"Come in."

Two days became six.

Catherine moved through the house las ifshe'd always belonged there.

Lisa liked her almost immediately.

Too immediately.

James stood near the kitchen entrance one evening watching Catherine laugh with Lisa at the dining table.

The same spot Mark stood that morning.

Lisa giggled loudly while Catherine helped her color something badly with crayons.

The house felt warm again.

Lived in again.

And somehow—

That scared him.

Because deep down, beneath the relief and exhaustion and loneliness—

Something about this felt wrong.

But James ignored it anyway.

And suddenly Catherine turned around

"James!"