PART 4:

Ariana’s smile widened. Good. Tomorrow, same time? I’ll be here. They stood. There was an awkward moment where neither of them knew quite how to say goodbye. Handshake too formal, hug too familiar. Ariana solved it by touching his arm briefly. Thanks for this, for being honest. Thanks for not making the accidental like thing weird.

Oh, it was definitely weird. I’m just choosing to find it charming instead. Daniel laughed. I’ll take it. He watched her leave, laptop bag slung over her shoulder, moving through the crowd with the kind of unconscious confidence that came from knowing you belonged anywhere you chose to be. His phone buzzed. Already looking forward to tomorrow.

Try not to accidentally like anyone else before then. He typed back without thinking. No promises. That night, after Sophie was asleep, Daniel stood in his kitchen staring at his phone. He should tell someone, should run this by a friend, get an objective opinion on whether this was a spectacularly bad idea. But who? His parents lived three states away and still asked when he was going to get back on his feet like the divorce had knocked him down instead of freed him.

His college friends had drifted away during the marriage, uncomfortable with Miranda’s circles and his increasing absence. His work colleagues were professional acquaintances at best. He thought about calling Peterson, his 72-year-old neighbor who’d become an unlikely friend. But Peterson would just tell him what he already knew, that getting involved with anyone connected to Miranda was playing with fire.

Instead, Daniel opened his laptop and did something he hadn’t done in months. He opened his old portfolio, design work from before before the marriage, before Sophie, before everything got complicated. Logos and branding, yes, but also experimental pieces, architectural sketches he’d done for fun, building concepts that would never be built, but captured something about space and light and human experience.

He’d forgotten how much he’d loved it, the pure creativity of it, unmoored from client demands and practical constraints. His phone buzzed again. Random question. What would you design if you could design anything? No budget, no clients, no restrictions. Daniel stared at the message, then at his laptop screen, then back at the message.

Why are you asking? Because I’m curious. And because I’m working on a project that’s sucking my soul and I need to remember why I became an architect in the first place. He typed slowly, carefully. A community center. Not fancy. Just a space where people could come together. Library, meeting rooms, maybe a small theater. Lots of natural light, spaces that flow into each other, but still have distinct identities.

Architecture that invites instead of intimidates. The response came quickly. That’s beautiful. Would you ever design it for real? Would need someone to fund it, preferably someone with nine figures to spare. Funny you should mention that. Daniel’s heart rate picked up. I was joking. I wasn’t. Send me your sketches. I don’t have sketches.

I just made it up off the top of my head. Then make sketches. I’m serious. Send them to me. Ariana? Daniel, this is crazy. Probably. Send them anyway. He looked at his old portfolio, at the architectural sketches gathering digital dust, at the version of himself who’d believed he could create something meaningful. I’ll think about it.

Good enough. For now. Daniel set his phone down, looked at his laptop, back at his phone, then he opened a new file and started sketching. The next morning felt different. Daniel caught himself humming while making Sophie’s lunch, something he never did. Sophie noticed immediately. You’re being weird again. I’m in a good mood. Sue me.

Good moods are suspicious. What happened? Nothing happened. Can’t a person just be happy? Sophie squinted at him with an expression far too knowing for a 6-year-old. You met someone. Daniel nearly dropped the peanut butter jar. What? No, why would you think that? You did the ironing thing yesterday and now you’re humming.

You only hum when something good happened. I hum sometimes. Name one time recently. She had him there. Daniel focused very intently on cutting her sandwich into triangles. Maybe I’m just having a good week. Is it a girl? Sophie, it’s okay if it’s a girl. Ms. Martinez says it’s healthy for adults to have relationships.

Your teacher said that? We were talking about families. Billy’s mom has a new boyfriend and he was worried it was weird. Ms. Martinez said all kinds of families are normal. Daniel sat down across from her, sandwich forgotten. Is this your way of asking if I’m dating someone? Sophie shrugged, trying for casual and not quite landing it.

I just want to know if things are changing. His heart twisted. Of course she was worried. The last time things changed, when he and Miranda split, Sophie’s whole world had fractured. Shared custody, two homes, parents who could barely speak to each other. Bug. He waited until she looked at him. Nothing’s changing.

I met someone for coffee. That’s all. A friend. We talked. That’s it. Will I have to meet her? Not unless you want to. Is she nice? Daniel thought about Ariana’s directness, her humor, the loneliness in her eyes when she talked about disappearing. Yeah, he said. She’s nice. Okay. Sophie picked up her sandwich. But if she’s mean to you, I’ll tell her to leave. Noted. I feel very protected.

👉 [Tap here for the Next Part ] 👈