Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t trust myself to.
Ivy was standing so close to the glass that her breath fogged it, peering in as she waited for Matty’s answer.
“I’ll take a slice of the hummingbird cake,” he said.
Of course.
I could’ve said it before he opened his mouth. He always had a sweet tooth for the moist banana-pineapple cake with a cream cheese frosting that stuck to your lips. He used to call it his guilty pleasure, though he never looked guiltywhen he smeared the frosting on my nipple and licked it clean off.
A dull ache hummed low in my chest. Like the memory had teeth sharp enough to rip my skin from my bones.
“And… and… the unicorn one.” Ivy pointed. “Iz pwetty.”
Matty blinked, surprised. “The unicorn one?”
She nodded, ponytail bouncing. “Is pink and… and…”
She struggled to get the words out, but Matty didn’t rush her, and I could have wept.
“It has wings!” she finally got out.
Matty hesitated. Just a beat. “Umm, sounds magical. Add it to my order, please.”
Miss Loreen handled the sale and then handed Ivy the paper bag carefully, folded neatly with a pink sticker. “You know what to do.” Ivy held the bag with both hands and offered it up like it was sacred. “Here go, Mistah ’ustomer!”
Matty took it slowly, like it weighed more than it should. “Thank you, Ivy.”
Ivy.
He knew her name.
He’d said her name.
And just like that, my whole damn world tilted.
He hadn’t hesitated. Hadn’t stumbled over it or looked at me for permission. He’d said her name like it belonged on his tongue. Soft. Careful. Real.
Something cracked in me, deep, quiet, but undeniable. Like a fault line giving way under the weight of a memory I didn’t ask to feel.
Because there had been a time I imagined him doing that all the time.
Saying her name.
Carving it into the world with his voice.
Maybe whispering it before bedtime or laughing it across the yard while she rode a bike with streamers.
But he never got the chance.
I’d never given it to him.
Seeing him standing there—this man I used to love like breathing—talking to my daughter like it was the most natural thing in the world… it gutted me.
Not because I didn’t want it.
But because, deep down, I did.
