Page 12 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

Naturally.

I glance toward the hallway in time to see the dog sprint past, something blue clenched in his mouth, his tail moving with the enthusiasm of a creature convinced he’s achieved a significant feat.

“Captain.”

He slows, turns his head, considers me, and then accelerates.

I follow, intercepting him near the dining area and retrieving the sock with minimal resistance.

“This isn't yours,” I tell him.

He appears unconcerned. I release him, and within seconds, he’s located something else, my tie, as it happens, and disappears again with renewed purpose.

I close my eyes briefly as Oliver's giggles fill the room.

“Oliver,” I call, already moving after Captain, “this is precisely why we have rules.”

“I didn’t tell him to do it!”

“He doesn’t require instruction.”

It takes longer than it should to recover the tie, and by the time I do, Oliver is laughing openly from the other room, the sound cutting cleanly through the tension.

These moments have a way of recalibrating things.

They remind me, with uncomfortable clarity, where my priorities remain.

Dinner is uneventful.

Oliver talks, as he always does, about planes, about things he’s built, about ideas that are still forming but already important to him. At one point, he asks whether his mother liked the meal.

“She did,” I tell him.

“Did she make it?”

“Occasionally.”

“Was it good?”

“Not particularly.”

That earns a small smile. “Then why did you eat it?”

“Because she made it.”

He accepts that answer without further question, just as he always does when it comes to his mother. He has to rely on my memories, not his own.

I always wonder if my memories are enough.

Later, after the familiar process of getting him to bed, stories negotiated, water requested, objections raised and resolved, I linger slightly longer than usual.

He’s already drifting.

Briefly, I allow myself to think of her.

Then I step out and close the door.

My office is quiet. The city beyond the glass moves with a consistency I've always found useful. Predictable, structured, indifferent to anything beyond its own rhythm.