Claire laughed and waved us off. “You two are spoiling me.”
But a few weeks later, Ethan started going by himself.
One afternoon he kissed my forehead, grabbed his keys, and called over his shoulder, “Sweetheart, Claire mentioned she might be running low on vitamins. I’ll bring her some.”
“Now?” I asked.
“It’ll only take an hour.”
After that, the visits became more frequent—during the workday, late evenings, even weekends.
One Saturday I was standing at the stove stirring dinner when he hurried through the kitchen, already slipping on his jacket.
“Love, I’m going to check on Claire and the baby.”
“You just saw her two days ago,” I said.
He laughed lightly, the kind of laugh people use when something sounds slightly ridiculous. Then he was out the door before I could even step away from the stove to follow him.
And it kept happening.
