I turned off the fireplace and was ready to head upstairs when my phone chimed with a text.
“Flynn?” Ash asked.
“Yup,” I replied.
“Dick pic?” Ash’s grin was wicked.
I chuckled. “He’s not the dick pic type. More like, I’ll fly across the country and show it to you in person,type.”
“That’s a good type.” Quinn giggled. Her cheeks were rosy, and she bit her lip. “I miss Sasha, but I’m glad to have had a girls’ night.”
“You miss Sasha?” Ash snorted. “He’s not that far away. You’ll see him tomorrow.”
“You don’t miss Duncan?” Quinn asked.
We began to walk up the stairs and Ash pitched her voice low so as not to wake one of the children. “I think distance from your husband is a good idea sometimes.”
Husbands and wives annoyed one another, it was inevitable. And there were times that I didn’t know how to be honest with Flynn about what I was going through, but he was my everything.
Ash’s words gave me pause as we arrived at the guest room she and Duncan always slept in when they stayed over.
“Night,” she said quickly, slipping into the room and closing the door.
Quinn glanced at me. “Was that…”
“Weird.” I nodded. “Yeah. I’m too tired to march in there and ask her what the hell is wrong.”
“Give her time,” Quinn said. “I think she wants space.”
“Why is it always this way?” I asked.
“What way?”
“We’re all always going throughsomething. Is there ever going to be a time of peace and serenity when nothing is wrong with one of us?”
Quinn looked at me for a long moment and I mentally smacked my forehead for being too honest.
I wondered if she’d call me on it and ask me what I meant outright. But she surprised me when she said, “Yes, there will be a time of peace and serenity when nothing is wrong.”
“When will that be?”
She gave me a side hug and then released me. “When we’re all dead.”
“God, could you be more Russian by association?”
Quinn smiled and shrugged. “Night, Barrett.”
“Night, Quinn.”
She disappeared around the corner as she headed to the opposite wing of our home. I checked in on Piper to see how she was doing. Moonlight dribbled through the half open blinds in her room, illuminating the edge of the crib.
One day soon I’d look at her and she’d no longer be a newborn, but a baby. And then one day she’d grow from baby to toddler.
I shut down that line of thought, lamenting the inevitable passage of time that no one could escape.
My phone vibrated and I quickly but quietly left the nursery, shutting the door behind me.
“Love,” I greeted, the phone to my ear. “Shouldn’t you be smoking cigars and drinking scotch instead of talking to your wife?”
