Archie’s POV
Saturday arrived with a cloudless sky and the kind of gentle afternoon breeze you couldn't buy, no matter how large the bank account.
For the first time since my sons were born, I hadn't hired an event firm to coordinate every second of their birthday. There were no ice sculptures, no catered silver trays, and no public relations photographers. Instead, string lights hung between the old oak trees, an obstacle course made of pine timber stood proudly on the grass, and smoke drifted up from the patio grill.
I wore a charcoal sweater with the sleeves pushed to my forearms, standing over the burgers while Ethan and Evan ran wild across the lawn.
I had promised them I wouldn't leave, and I kept my word. My phone was locked in the top drawer of my desk upstairs, dark and silent
