I was in the living room, folding some laundry, when I heard a sound that made my heart stop.
The front door unlocked. The handle turned. "Daddy!"
"My babies" he shouted.
He laughed a real, deep, booming laugh that I missed hearing.
He fell on the rug with the kids all over him.
"You are crushing me!" he groaned playfully. "Help! I am being attacked by tiny wolves!"
I stood by the sofa, holding a folded shirt against my chest. I watched them. My heart ached. Despite everything that was happening between us, despite the coldness and the secrets, Astor was honestly a good dad.
He loved them so much. It was beautiful to see, but it also made me sad because he wasn't looking at me. He was only looking at them.
"Did you bring us anything?" our son asked.
"I brought myself," Astor said,
