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“Eww,” Jack says from nearby. “I think he just slipped her the tongue.”

Abby laughs lightly against my lips. I pull away and give Jack a stern look, then hike my bag over my shoulder.

“Be good, guys.”

“We will,” Emerson says.

I walk out the front door to the driveway, where my SUV is parked. As I start the car, I realize I don’t see another car out front; I’m guessing Abby took an Uber here. I look back toward the house, roll down the window, and gesture for Abby to come outside.

“You want the SUV?” I ask her. “My Tesla’s in the garage and the keys are on the hook in the mudroom, but it’s a lot smaller.”

She waves a hand and shakes her head. “I’ll get a rental. Go!”

I look at the front window one more time as I back down the driveway and see three little faces peering through the blinds at me. Hard as it is to leave them, I have to. And I know they’ll be in good hands. Abby manages a Fortune 500 company; I know she can take care of three kids for a few days.

But I hope with everything in me that being around the kids won’t be painful for her. She’s saving my ass right now, but if it hurts her, I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive myself.Chapter Twenty-TwoAbbyThe suburban Chicago neighborhood Luca lives in is pretty new. His subdivision is made up of mostly brick homes set back from the road, with larger lots than I’d expect given real estate prices. All have pristine green lawns, many with kids’ bikes left on them.

It’s a place for families. Luca’s large, well-kept home had to cost at least a million dollars, and I suspect he wouldn’t live here if not for the kids. Just like my life changed in the blink of an eye, his did, too. Only he didn’t lose the role of a parent, he gained it.

“Can I wear this to dance practice, Abby?” Emerson walks into the kitchen wearing a swimsuit and a tutu.

“Sure.” I grab my phone, scrolling through texts from Luca to find the address of the dance place. “And you’re supposed to bring your socks and shoes; do you know where they are?”

“Ummm....”

“Okay, go see if you can find them and let me know if you need help.”

I walk over to the island where my written schedule for today is waiting.

Emerson: dance practice at 11 a.m., swim lessons at 2 p.m.

Jack: library reading program at 1 p.m.

Cora: softball practice at 4 p.m.

I’m capable of making my own schedule and sticking to it, but I’ve really gotten used to Anthony doing it for me. And that’s just work stuff. Kids require a little more finesse.

You’ve got this, Abby. Just take it one thing at a time.

I go into the laundry room, pull clothes out of the dryer and put them onto the folding counter, and then I move the wet stuff in the washer to the dryer. As I pick up a pair of red boxer briefs while folding clothes, I smile. I didn’t expect my first visit to Luca’s house to be so…comprehensive, but I’m not complaining.

He told me to sleep in his room rather than the guest room. My first two nights here, I fell asleep in his king-size bed with soft blue sheets that smell like his body wash. I’ve also been using his bathroom, which means I get a peek at all his favorite toiletries. He uses Irish Spring body wash and toothpaste with baking soda that, surprisingly, I really like.

On my first full day here, I didn’t take the kids to any activities. We took the time to get acquainted, playing board games, making homemade pizza and watching movies. They’re good kids, each with their own unique personalities.

“Want to play a game?” Jack asks me as he walks into the laundry room.

“Sure, but I have to fold these clothes and then take Emerson to dance. How about if we play a game in the car?”

Jack gives me a skeptical look. “How can we play a game in the car?”

“I Spy? Or the one where we use the whole alphabet and have to remember everything the other person added?”

He shrugs. “Okay.”

He seems to be the most agreeable of the three. Emerson is happy and outgoing, Jack is quiet and easygoing, and Cora is slightly dramatic and quite perceptive.

“Is Uncle Luca coming back today?” Cora asks from the kitchen.

“No, not today. But he said when he texted this morning that the doctors feel like your grandpa’s surgery went well, so that’s good news.”

“Grandpa’s gonna be okay?” Jack says.

“For now,” Cora says sharply. “But he’ll die someday.”

I cut in to redirect the conversation. “Hey, I thought we’d try that place Jack mentioned for dinner tonight. The one where you can roast your own hot dogs and marshmallows?”

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