SHAPES UNSPOKEN

- 3 -

HAPPY READING 🥰

Sean Britto

Six Months Later

It has been six months since I sent the divorce papers to Cindy. Six months of silence. No signature. No fight. No call. Nothing.

For the past five months, things have slowly started to steady themselves-especially after Brian moved back to New York City. Steph is home, settled, and we've managed to create a routine that works around my work hours. It isn't perfect, but it's ours.

Adjusting without Cindy was harder than I ever expected. She knew everything-every practice, every allergy, every appointment, every little detail about this house and Steph's schedule. She made it look effortless. It isn't. It's exhausting.

Still, we've adapted.

Tonight is the charity gala Brian organized in honor of his grandfather. I'm dressed and ready, but the sitter is running late. I applied for a live-in nanny, but no one has been able to match my schedule yet. So here I am, sitting in the living room while Steph sleeps upstairs.

My phone rings. Brian.

"Sean, you all set for tonight?"

"Yeah, man. Dressed. Waiting on the sitter."

"Did you take my advice and get a date?"

"What do I need one for? So the media can dissect my life? No thanks."

He laughs. "If the sitter doesn't show, Rossie can keep Steph. Jaden sleeps through the night."

"If she's not here in ten minutes, I'll take you up on that."

"We'll talk at the gala. I'm heading back."

There's a knock at the door.

Miss Marie.

"Sorry, dear. Traffic is backed up tonight."

"You're right on time. You have my number and the emergency contacts. Call me if anything."

She smiles warmly. Steph adores her.

I kiss my son's head before leaving, then head to the Grand Ballroom.

When I arrive, cameras flash instantly.

"Sean! Where's your wife?"

I don't break stride. I don't look at them.

Inside, I greet partners and associates, keeping the conversation surface-level.

"Sean Britto."

I turn to see Adam Ferguson-college memories I'd rather forget.

"Long time," he says, gripping my hand. "How's Cindy? The baby?"

"They're fine."

"Where is she?"

"Italy."

His gaze shifts across the room. "Who's that in the gold dress?"

I glance over.

"That's Brian's wife."

He whistles. "Brian hit the jackpot."

I walk away before he can say anything else.

Later, I'm outside on the garden terrace, gripping the railing, pulling in cool air.

"You look like you need more than a deep breath."

I turn.

Anna stands there in a black floor-length dress that fits her like it was made for her. Confident. Composed. Beautiful.