“What if we go hide in our room?” he asks gently. “We haven’t exactly been living up to our newlywed status.”
His comment cracks open the rest of my chest, letting me breathe freely for the first time in days. Probably even longer.
A quiet laugh escapes.
“Can’t have that,” I murmur. “They’ll talk either way, but we might as well make it interesting.”
“I might have very nefarious things planned for us.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“If you consider reruns of The Rookie and an afternoon nap nefarious, then absolutely.”
That…actually sounds blissful.
I step in the opposite direction, muscle memory steering me toward the living room to make sure someone keeps an eye on Phoebe. But instead of taking the next step, I hesitate, hovering between two choices.
My eyes land on Aiden’s. He watches me, impassive, like he doesn’t want to tell me what to do.
It takes Herculean effort, but I use the suspended momentum to step back toward my husband.
“She’ll be okay, she’s surrounded by adults.” I wet my lips. “Except maybe Carter. He should always have a grownup nearby, too.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “You okay?”
I nod. “I think so.”
He pulls me forward, tugging us toward a schedule that means absolutely nothing.
And for once, I stop worrying about everyone else.
forty-one
CHLOE
I glancetoward Mom and Phoebe, perched over the coffee table as they put together a princess block set Evelyn picked up at a shop downtown.
“She’s acting tough, but I see cracks. We don’t have much longer before she crashes.” My shoulders droop. “She also hasn’t been fever-free for twenty-four hours. No ballet recital today.”
Aiden nods immediately, but sighs. “I figured.”
Her dance company’s Nutcracker recital is this afternoon. It was going to mark Phoebe’s first real performance, where she was cast as part of the Rat Brigade.
Since it’s a small studio that only started this year, they opted for price-saving costumes, so her grey leotard and tights with the adorable mouse tail and ear headband are still laid out on the back of her chair in her room.
My chest tightens.
“I told her we’d watch the recording later,” I say. “She didn’t even argue about it.”
I’m not sure who I’m more disappointed in. Her or me?
Aiden studies my face for a beat. Then something shifts behind his eyes, a telltale decision that will include shenanigans.
“Give me ten minutes,” he says.
I side-eye him. “For what?”
“You’ll see.”
