“Uh-huh.” I could practically hear her eye-roll. “You sound… weird. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on!” I laughed, too loudly. Almost manic. I cleared my throat again, mind spinning with how I would pull this back. “I’m just tired. You know how it is. Full house, holiday madness, kids who get up to the craziest shit when I’m not looking.”
“Maren.”
“Liv.” I said her name the same way she said mine, stalling for time. Then I cut in before she could corner me. “Anyway, enough about me. How’s cohabitation going with Jonathan the Great? Is he still grossing you out with his beard trimmings in the bathroom sink?”
My intention was to focus on her, but the mention of his beard immediately made me think of Ethan. The way his stubblegrazed my skin when he kissed me. How it left me tender and more sensitive to every touch after that.
“Don’t start,” she groaned, bringing me back to the present moment with her. “We’ve had three arguments this week about hair hygiene.”
“Classic.” I smiled, grateful for the shift. I slipped into my bedroom and shut the door softly. “Let me guess, you’re still the unreasonable one for bringing it up.”
“Exactly.”
A small knock sounded at my door before my body could register that I’d sat down on my bed at all. Sadie peeked her head in, grinning, toothpaste foam dotting her chin.
“I had to brush again,” she said. “Can you tuck me in again after I rinse?”
“Perfect timing,” I said, covering the phone’s mic. “I’ll be right there, okay?”
She nodded and disappeared down the hall.
“Duty calls. Again,” I said into the phone, standing. “But I want the full Jonathan update tomorrow.”
“Fine. But I’m not done with you, Calloway.”
“You never are.” I hung up before she could say anything else and followed the sound of giggling down the hall.
Emma was still in bed, holding out her stuffed bunny like a nightly offering. “He wants a kiss too,” she announced.
I kissed both of their foreheads and the bunny’s lopsided ear for good measure. “There. All equally loved.”
Sadie giggled. “Even the bunny?”
“Especially the bunny.”
They settled under the blankets, whispering to each other as I dimmed the light again. For a second, I just stood there, watching them. Tiny forms in the glow of the night-light. And I wondered when the house had started to feel like something I’d miss.
Will’s door was cracked open, the glow from his lamp spilling out into the hallway. I knocked softly.
“Still up?”
His voice came back muffled. “Not playing games, I promise.”
I stepped in. He was sitting up against the headboard, no video games, hair sticking up in tired tufts.
“Good,” I said, folding my arms. “Because I was ready to confiscate that thing and use it as a coaster.”
He smiled, barely. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I said, moving closer. I perched on the edge of his bed, sensing this was one of those serious twelve-year-old questions that felt like life or death.
He hesitated, fidgeting with his blanket. “If you… you know, liked someone. Like, liked them liked them. But they didn’t know, and maybe they didn’t even really know you at all. What would you do?”
My brain short-circuited, immediately flashing to a collage of terrible choices that involved me liking three men who didn’t even really know me.
“I, uh— What makes you ask that?” I managed, trying to keep my voice even.
