Emma’s POV

I was at home, in the space Jeff had kindly cleared up and told me I could use as an office, sifting through paperwork when my phone vibrated beside me. I glanced at the screen and felt my stomach tighten.

It was a text from Sam.

I hesitated for a moment before picking it up. We hadn’t spoken much outside of work lately, not since Jeff had started trying to rebuild things between us and yet, here he was, reaching out now.

I tapped the notification, and his message appeared on the screen.

Sam: Lunch? There’s something I want to talk to you about.

I exhaled through my nose, debating whether to ignore it. Meeting Sam for lunch didn’t feel like the best idea, not with how complicated things had already become.

Jeff had been making an effort, an effort that, if I was honest, I wasn’t sure how to handle just yet.

Still, I wasn’t naive, Sam never reached out without a reason, before I could overthink it, another message popped up.

Sam: Before you say no, it’s just lunch. Nothing more, we’re still coworkers afterall remember?

I shook my head, a small, dry laugh escaping me. Sam always knew exactly what to say to take away my hesitation.

Me: Fine. Where?

Sam: Vincent’s. 1 PM.

I stared at the message for a few seconds before setting my phone down with a sigh.

Just lunch, but in my gut, I knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

An hour later, I pulled into the parking lot of Vincent’s, a quiet, upscale restaurant tucked into the downtown district. The kind of place where business lunches were common, the air always smelled of roasted garlic and fresh herbs.

I stepped out of my car, adjusting the strap of my purse as I headed toward the entrance.

I didn’t know why I was suddenly so nervous. Maybe because I knew Jeff wouldn’t like this or maybe because I wasn’t sure I liked it either.

But any hesitation I had evaporated the second I stepped inside.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, a hushed murmur of voices, a cold, stunned silence settling over the room and then I saw them.

Jeff was standing over Sam, his fists clenched at his sides, his body vibrating with barely contained anger. Sam sat back in his chair, dabbing at his lip, blood smeared at the corner of his mouth.

My stomach plummeted.

“Jeff?!” My voice rang out, sharper than I intended.

He turned at the sound, his dark eyes locking onto mine and in that moment, the fury in them flickered, just for a second, replaced by something else. Guilt.

Neither of them spoke at first. The tension between them was thick, palpable, wrapping around the room like a storm cloud ready to burst.

I stepped forward, my heart pounding in my chest, “What the hell is going on?” My voice came out steady, but I could hear the slight tremor beneath it.

Sam exhaled, still pressing his fingers to his lip, “Jeff invited me to lunch to tell me to stay away,” he said, his voice laced with something almost amused, “But when I told him I was getting custody of my kids, he didn’t take it very well.”

My body went rigid. Custody?

My eyes snapped to Jeff, but he said nothing. His fists were still curled, his shoulders rising and falling with labored breaths but he managed to get his breathing under control before turning to me, “Emma, I…. “ 

I swallowed hard, my voice tight as I held up a hand to stop him, “I don’t want to hear it.”

His jaw clenched, but he nodded once.

I let out a slow breath, “I can’t believe this.”

I turned to Sam again, “Are you okay?”

Sam gave a half-smirk, dabbing at his lip once more, “I’ll live.”

He threw Jeff a look, one that was smug but edged with something sharper, something victorious. 

There was something fishy about their whole interaction but I didn’t have time for this. For their tension, their silent war over something neither of them truly understood.

I turned to Jeff, my voice softer but no less firm, “I don’t know what you were trying to do Jeff, but this?” I gestured between them, my chest tightening, “This isn’t helping anything.”

He opened his mouth, his expression a storm of emotions, but I held up a hand, I needed to get out of here.

Turning back to Sam, I sighed, “Come on. Let’s go.”

He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, tossed some cash onto the table, and followed me out of the restaurant.

I didn’t look back.

The car ride was silent for a long time. I kept my hands wrapped around the steering wheel, my fingers digging into the leather. My mind was racing, trying to process everything that had just happened.

Sam was the first to break the silence, “You’re mad.”

I let out a sharp breath, “Mad? Sam, I walked into a restaurant and found my ex-husband punching you in the face. What the hell do you think?”

He let out a small chuckle, wincing slightly when his lip pulled at the cut, “You always did have a talent for walking into chaos at the worst possible moment.”

I shot him a glare, “Don’t joke about this.”

His expression softened, “I’m not Emma. I just, I didn’t expect him to actually hit me.”

I scoffed, “Well, I didn’t expect him to lose his damn mind either, but apparently, we both underestimated him.”

Sam tilted his head slightly, “You know why he did it, don’t you?”

I gripped the wheel tighter, “Because he’s an idiot?”

“No.” Sam leaned back against the seat, his tone quieter now, “Because he’s scared.”

I frowned, glancing at him, “Scared?”

He nodded, “Scared of losing you, scared of losing control.”

I exhaled, shaking my head, “That doesn’t justify anything.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Sam agreed, “But it makes him predictable.”

I glanced at him again, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

Sam shrugged, watching me carefully, “Jeff lashes out when he feels threatened. And right now? He feels like he’s losing everything he thought was his.”

I turned my eyes back to the road, my chest tightening, “That’s not my problem.”

Sam studied me for a moment before murmuring, “Maybe not but it’s still affecting you.”

I didn’t respond. Because, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right.

Jeff’s desperation, his erratic behavior, it was affecting me. It was twisting my emotions into knots, making me question things I thought I had already made peace with.

And that terrified me.

When we finally pulled into Sam’s driveway, I cut the engine but didn’t move right away. The silence in the car was thick, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Sam shifted beside me, “Emma.”

I turned to him, “Yeah?”

His expression was unreadable, “Are you okay?”

I hesitated, then, finally, I nodded, “Yeah.”

But as I stared at the house in front of me, I wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. 

The car engine had barely died before Sam unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to me. His expression was softer now, a stark contrast to the smug defiance he’d worn back at the restaurant.

"Come inside," he said, his voice calm, "I’ll make some coffee."

I hesitated. As much as I wanted to get far away from the mess I’d just walked into, stepping into Sam’s house felt like walking into another one.

"Sam, I… "

"It’s just coffee Emma. No pressure."

His lips quirked into that easy smile of his, but I could still see the frustration simmering beneath, "Unless you plan on leaving me on my doorstep looking like this?" He gestured to his bruised lip.

I sighed, rubbing my temple. My emotions were tangled, my mind still spinning from everything that had happened. Maybe a few minutes to clear my head wouldn’t hurt.

"Fine," I relented, "Just for a little while."

Sam smirked like he’d won something and pushed the car door open. I grabbed my purse and followed him up the short walkway to his house.

Once inside, I perched on the edge of the couch while Sam disappeared into the kitchen. The house was warm, familiar, though it felt emptier than I remembered. The framed pictures on the walls, the scattered toys in the corner, remnants of the life he’d barely been part of these past few years.

A few minutes later, he returned, setting two steaming mugs on the coffee table before taking a seat opposite me.

I wrapped my fingers around the mug, the warmth seeping into my skin, grounding me. We sat in silence for a beat before I decided to break it.

"You never explained what you meant earlier," I said, watching him carefully, "About custody."

Sam leaned back against the couch, exhaling through his nose, "I meant exactly what I said Emma. I’m going for full custody of the kids."

I blinked, stunned, "Full custody?" I repeated, my voice sharper than I intended.

He nodded, "I want them with me and I want you to move out of Jeff’s house, I don’t like them staying there."

I shook my head, setting my cup down, "That’s not happening Sam."

"Why the hell not?" His eyes darkened, jaw tightening, "You don’t belong there and the kids don’t belong there either."

"It’s not about belonging!" I shot back, irritation creeping into my voice, "It’s about stability. Moving them out now, after everything, would do nothing but confuse them. That’s the last thing they need."

Sam scoffed, shaking his head, "No Emma. You’re the one confusing them. You think keeping them under Jeff’s roof is what’s best? The man literally attacked me today."

"You provoked him."

Sam’s gaze flickered with something unreadable before he scoffed again, "Unbelievable." He muttered under his breath.

I took a slow breath, forcing myself to remain calm, "Sam I appreciate that you want to be in their lives but uprooting them isn’t the answer."

His expression darkened, "No, what you appreciate is the idea of control. You don’t want them to know me, you never have."

"That’s not true.” I shot back.

"Isn’t it?" His voice rose slightly, "You make all the decisions Emma. You dictate when I see them, how often, how involved I get. And now, when I finally take a stand, you tell me it’s ‘confusing’?"

I clenched my fists, "This isn’t about you Sam, it’s about them."

His lips curled into a humorless smirk, "Is it? Or is it about Jeff?"

I blinked, "What?"

"You heard me." His voice was low, almost mocking, "You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?"

I recoiled as if he had slapped me, "That’s ridiculous."

Sam leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, "Is it? Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like it. You defend him, you live under his roof, you’re here, arguing with me about whether or not I should take custody of my own damn kids, all while that bastard gets a free pass."

I felt my anger flare, "Jeff is not getting a free pass. He and I are not…” 

"Oh, spare me." Sam cut in, "You might tell yourself that, but deep down? You’re still his and that’s why you’re fighting me on this."

I stood abruptly, my hands shaking, "That’s not true."

His eyes flickered with something smug, "You don’t sound very sure Emma."

I clenched my jaw, my mind reeling, trying to process the shift in the conversation and then, suddenly, everything clicked.

I stared at Sam, the pieces falling into place.

"You planned this." I said, my voice eerily calm.

Sam blinked, "What?"

"You knew Jeff invited you to lunch," I continued, my chest tightening with fury, "You knew he’d react badly and you wanted it to happen."

Sam’s expression didn’t waver, "That’s ridiculous."

"Is it?" I took a step closer, my voice gaining strength, "You provoked him, knowing exactly how he’d respond. You let him hit you, then sat there like the victim while I walked in and saw the aftermath."

Sam’s silence was deafening.

My stomach twisted, "You played me."

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t deny it.

"You manipulative bastard," I whispered, my hands trembling, "There’s no way in hell I’m letting my children be raised by someone like you."

Sam’s face darkened, but I was already grabbing my purse and heading for the door.

"You’re making a mistake Emma." He called after me.

I spun around, my voice cold. "No Sam. The mistake was ever trusting you again."

His expression turned dangerous, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper, "I’ll do whatever it takes to get my kids Emma. Whatever. It. Takes."

I felt my pulse spike, but I didn’t let him see my fear.

Instead, I turned and walked out, slamming the door behind me.

My hands shook as I got into my car, my breaths coming fast.

Sam had played me. He had manipulated the entire situation, and I had walked right into it.

As I gripped the steering wheel, I realized one terrifying truth.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.