And Tor simply looked at her. “Because I asked you to. Now, please. I don’t need this shit right now.”

A few days had passed since our last talk. Ella had been avoiding me since. And it probably wasn’t a good idea to get involved here, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from chiming in. “Honey, it’s the boys mess.”

Tor glanced at me before checking the time on his wristwatch. “I know, but-”

I don’t know what possessed me, but I cut him off with, “Then you know that the best way to raise men who respect women is to treat them equally in every way, including cleaning up their own mess.”

His light sigh told me I was pushing it. “I don’t have time for this, Tori.”

That’s okay. I did. “So, let me deal with it. I’ll show them how it’s done. Make it fun.”

And my husband threw me a look of sheer skepticism. “You think you can get those little monsters to clean?” He laughed through his nose. “I’d like to see you try.”

You’re on, buddy. “Challenge accepted.”

When Ella glanced at me, I winked at her and when she looked away, I swear she wore the tiniest smile. Tiny, but still there.

* * *

It was around nine pm when Tor walked through the door. I stood in the foyer waiting for him. My hair was a mess, I was certain I looked stressed the fuck out, and my smile was crooked. But the mess was gone and when his gaze passed the clean, toy-free floor, Tor’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You did this.”

“I did not,” I squawked, insulted.

And he walked into the room, surveilling it slowly before he put his hands to his hips and said, “You’re tellin’ me the boys, my boys, Adriano and Domenico, those two walking natural disasters… they did this?”

My smile was less crooked then. “Uh-huh.”

“How?”

How?

Oh God. I couldn’t tell him I was mere seconds away from a mental breakdown. Rather, I said unevenly, “Patience and persistence.” Just as I said it, a lock of hair fell over my face.

He stared at me for a solid minute before he sauntered over and took my face in his hands. I know he meant nothing by it when he said, “I like it when you play at being mommy.”

I didn’t mean to pout. “I’m not playing.”

And his face changed then, grew thoughtful. “No. You’re not, are you?”

He drew close and kissed me, and I breathed him in. When he led me upstairs, I glanced at the bed and hesitated. Tor obviously felt it enough to ask, “What?”