They both laughed.
Briefly.
Then the laughter faded.
Madison said, “The problem is, we weren’t twenty-three.”
“No.”
“And Emily deserved for you to know that.”
“I know.”
“Goodbye, Mark.”
“Goodbye, Madison.”
When the call ended, Mark deleted the apartment application.
Then he deleted the email thread.
Not because Emily had asked.
She hadn’t.
Because there was nothing there he wanted to preserve.
Six weeks after the girls were born, Emily returned to the house.
Not permanently.
Not yet.
Claire drove her over one afternoon while Mark was at work.
Emily walked slowly from room to room.
The house smelled different.
Cleaner.
Quieter.
In the kitchen, three labeled containers sat in the refrigerator with feeding times written on masking tape.
A notebook lay on the counter.
Mark’s handwriting filled every page.
Grace — 2:10 a.m. feeding.
Lily — hiccups after bottle. Fine after burping.
Faith — pediatrician says weight gain looks good.
