All right, so it was this version of Ash I was seeing today. Yesterday’s version had barely spoken a word to me. Not because of any conflict or tension; he’d just been busy on his phone.
“Well, I did tell Dylan his new responsibility around here is to mow the lawn,” I admitted.
Ash gestured his mug in the general direction of the backyard. “That little patch of grass out there? If I were you,I’d add the upstairs bathroom—it’s mostly his hair products and body spray turning it into a biohazard anyway.”
I let out a chuckle, unable to help it. He had a point.
“What’re Hallie’s chores these days?” he asked.
“She doesn’t have any, because she’s fucking weird. She helps out voluntarily.”
What fourteen-year-old girl did that?
“That is weird.” He frowned. “Mark my words, she’s gonna be one of those type A personalities who can pick any college she wants.”
She sort of already was. More often than not, I had to remind her to rest. And I did do that. She had stressful years ahead of her; she needed to relax while she could.
Ash checked his watch. “All right, I’mma go wake up the little ones.”
I nodded. “I’ll make breakfast. But, uh—you mentioned something about your house earlier.”
“Oh, right.” He took a final swig of his coffee before setting it on the counter. “I’m on my last projects. I’ve got a big furniture delivery tomorrow, and Kingsley’s helping me repair whatever’s causing the light fixtures to be on the fritz upstairs. It’s driving me batshit.”
Oh God, he was almost done, in other words.
“I need a couple of weeks, and then we can sit down with the kids,” he finished.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to nod. “Okay.”
We’d reached the end. In two weeks, this whole game of pretend would be over. Hallie and Dylan would officially move in to the rooms they’d already decorated at Ash’s house. It would be their second home. And Micah and Lily would learn that Daddies were getting a divorce. They’d find out they were moving too.
“One more thing,” he said, turning around in the doorway. “I’ll fight you on the National Parks Passport.”
I blanched. So he was already thinking about the memories we’d divide.
It felt like something died inside me right there. No pain or anger tore through me. It just…died.
Maybe it was the last shred of hope.
“You can have it,” I muttered, lowering my gaze to my work planner again.
Fuck everything.
“They have the passports over here, love.”
I remember Dylan and Hallie showing zero interest in the National Parks Passport, but it’d felt like a new tradition starting to me. And it had. That little book had seen places. It’d been at the top of every packing list before a vacation.
“Okay, let’s get one,” you said with a smile. “Where do we get it stamped?”
“Somewhere around here. I’ll ask.”
Today, as I hold the little book in my hands, it’s never looked better. The edges of the blue cover are a bit tattered. Countless pages are filled with stamps and stickers. Small doodles in the margins from all the kids too.
Yet, so many pages waiting for us to visit.
A breath gusts out of me as I realize it’s a symbol of our life story.
Just like with the passport, it will be unfinished.
