She walked toward the door, taking my old chair with her.

The door clicked closed moments later, leaving me alone.

The four walls that surrounded me were completely silent.

Peace at last.

But now instead of feeling comfort, I just felt lonely. And cold.

“Who’s the girl?” the familiar voice asked as I sank into the sofa.

I’d barely made it into my apartment before my phone started ringing.

“He said he wouldn’t say anything,” I growled, rubbing my tired eyes.

“There are no secrets in marriage,” my sister-in-law scolded.

Even without seeing her, I knew she had a smile painted across that angelic face.

Lailah Cavenaugh was one of the few women to ever break through this grizzly exterior of mine and see something worth rooting for. There was a time I’d thought my brother might have been jealous of the strange relationship that had blossomed between his lovely bride and me, but now, I thought he had come to appreciate it.

Or he just liked the fact that I couldn’t drift too far away.

Lailah always made sure of that.

“I’m not sure that’s true,” I answered, hearing the faint cry of my niece in the background.

“It should be,” she responded absently. “At least for the important things.”

“And who I happen to be talking to in a private conversation is considered important to your marriage, how?”

“Well, first of all…” she began, her words muffled, as if the phone was pressed against her cheek.

She was the queen of multitasking now that the two of them had a kid, so I could only imagine what she was doing—laundry, yoga… nursing. I inwardly shuddered.

“It wasn’t a private conversation,” she reminded me. “You had Jude patiently waiting for upwards of five minutes.”

“It wasn’t that long. God, he’s dramatic.”

“And, second, you are very important to our marriage, so yes.”

I sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you and that bleeding heart of yours.”

“Hey, my heart is awesome. My cardiologist told me so. And I think you understand perfectly. You’re important because you’re family, and we love you. I know, in your own weird little way, you love us, too.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I can see that eye roll from here, buddy.”

“Is there a point to this call? ’Cause I could really use this time for much more important things,” I reminded her.

She ignored my icy demeanor, as usual.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“And I’m not going to,” I replied.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not my mother, Lailah!”

“So, if I got your mom on the phone, would you answer?”

I could hear the humor bleeding through each word.

“She’s my assistant,” I finally answered, caving to what I knew would be an endless barrage of questions ending in the same results.

“Jude said you sounded… different with her.”