We hear Martin’s car pull into the driveway. Immediately, Princess settles herself over Willow and me, growling protectively at the front door.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” I whisper to her. “Willow, honey, why don’t you take Princess and go play in your room? I need to get supper ready. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”
Willow nods and nudges Princess off, quickly sliding off my lap and leading her canine guardian to her small room at the end of the hall.
Everything is small here. So small and so… insignificant.
Much like the man who walks through the front door right when I slip on my kitchen apron.
“Hey, honey, I’m home!” Martin sings out like it’s some Brady Bunch bullshit we’ve always done. Like I’m actually gonna be excited to see him.
That being said, I have to play my cards right, so
