“It’s done.” Andy’s voice carries over the phone, and I wish I were next to him, being able to see his face, hold his hand.

“She signed?” I can hardly believe it.

“She did. I thought it was going to be ugly at first.”

“What’d she do?”

“She gave back the cabin.”

“What?” I ask, hardly believing it.

“Yeah. She had a change of heart, I guess. But the boys are officially mine, and she has no legal ties to them, so…” The sound of his voice breaks my heart. I know he’s sad that she couldn’t see what she would be missing out on. Not for himself, for his boys.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Me, too. I don’t understand what she’s thinking.”

“Me either. I couldn’t walk away from them,” I admit quietly.

“Just them?”

“Well, you three,” I amend.

“Happy to hear that.”

“Yeah?”

My heart is racing, my nerves kicking up at admitting it, even though I’m sure he knows, but he needs to hear those words at the moment, especially after what he just went through.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Best thing that came out of this was you,” his voice is rumbly in my ear and causes my body to tingle.

My smile could be seen from the moon.

I hum in response rather than say something embarrassing, and he chuckles.

It’s low and makes my stomach flutter.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

I smile into the receiver. “No plans, yet.”

“Don’t make any. The boys and I want to take you somewhere. I think they knew they would need a distraction after today.”

“You guys want to take me somewhere?”

“Well, honest moment. It’s not really something I want to do. But the boys want to go.”

“What’s that?”

“They want to take you to this ridiculously dumb haunted house that apparently is so awesome it can’t be contained to just Halloween, so it’s opening for two weeks at the end of spring for people willing to test it out, whatever that means. It’s a new one, and they’re using some new pyrotechnics. The boys found out about it online, of course. The goal is to get people talking about it until it actually opens, or something like that. Apparently, there are some complete freaks out there who actually like this sort of shit and want to be scared. Which is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of but…”

“They?” I interrupt, not caring about when the haunted house is but latched onto hearing that the boys were wanting to include me.

“Are you going to just keep asking questions?”

“Well, you’re not exactly giving me much information.”

“I don’t really like getting scared,” he murmurs.

I can’t help it — a bubble of laughter bursts out of me.

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, I’m dead serious.”

“You do know the purpose of haunted houses is to be scared, right?”

“Oh, I know. Trust me. But the boys love it. They can’t get enough. And they begged me to call you so you could come along.”

My heart is so full with that one sentence.

“Really?”

“You mean the world to us, Christine.

Us.

“Ditto.”

“Tomorrow. Be ready. You better wear flats because you could end up carrying me on your back out of there.”

“You’re really that scared?”

“I didn’t say I am scared. I said I hate being scared,” he says like that’s any different.

“I have a feeling this is going to be fun.”

“You like haunted houses?”

“Not like. Love. I love them.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing! They’re so much fun! The unexpected, the constant wondering when someone’s going to jump out at you. The thrill of wondering if you’re going to pee yourself?”

“You’re not selling it,” he chuckles.

“We’re really going? Tomorrow night?”

“Yes.” He sighs. “If we must.”

“We must.”

“I have a feeling you three are always going to gang up on me,” he murmurs.

My entire body warms at his words.

“And then I get you to myself. You promised me another date, remember?”

“How could I forget? Prettiest ugly cake I’ve ever seen in my life got you unlimited date nights.”

He chuckles, but it sounds distant.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, directing us back to his initial reason for calling me.

“I am. I hate it for the boys. She gave me letters for them. I haven’t read them, yet. I’m not ready, and neither are they. I need to tell them.”

“But…”

“How do you tell your boys that their own mother doesn’t want them?”

I choose my words carefully and speak barely above a whisper. “Well, it’s not like they don’t know. They already heard it from her,” I remind him.

“Yes, but this is final, you know?”

“I know. So, you do it like you’ve done everything the last several months. With gentleness, honesty, and love. You make sure they know it’s her loss, that it has nothing to do with them. And at least you get to tell them that she changed her mind about the cabin.”

“Silver lining, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“I would ask you to be there but…”

“No. You’re right. You need to do this yourself.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it? It’s not about me, Andy.”

“I’m lucky to have you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will.”

“Can’t wait.”