What was normal anymore? “Pretty much. No emergencies, but I had to give a patient the bad news that his cancer has spread and all we can do is keep him comfortable. That never gets any easier.”

“Sorry to hear that.” His sympathy was genuine and he swept his arm out toward the open bottle. “I thought we’d eat after the girls are in bed, but would you like a glass of wine now?”

“Sure.” She forced herself to add, “Thanks.”

Seating herself on the couch between her daughters, she picked up the story where Nick had left off. It was an evening identical to so many they’d shared before the apocalypse, but now tension ringed the normalcy, making everything unfamiliar. For years, she’d never questioned or even considered their easy camaraderie, she just took its existence for granted and now it was gone. Would they ever get to a point where they were relaxed around each other again? Could they?

Nick brought her wine and settled on the couch leaving a respectful gap between them.

Lucy scrambled into his lap. “Daddy, you be the dragon voice.”

Nick raised his brows at Libby in query—something he did a lot these days. She nodded and he moved closer to read the text. His warmth enticed her to relax into him. It was what she wanted to do, because in so many ways she was tired of fighting, but giving in seemed like an easy out for him. She moved slightly, creating space between them. He didn’t shift to close it again.

When the nighttime routine of stories, teeth brushing and tucking in was over and the girls were snuggled into bed, Nick served up the cannelloni and the salad he’d made. As they ate, he told her about his plan to expand the fleet.

“Some city slickers love the idea of owning a yacht, but they don’t have the time to sail her more than a few times a year.”

“This sounds like those investment apartments in Queensland.”

“That’s exactly it. We hire out the yacht and take a cut and the owners get some money to cover the marina fees. They block out the times during the year they want to sail her.”

“How will you find investors?”

“Boat brokers, word of mouth, the internet and some old-school ads in sailing magazines.”

“It sounds like a good idea.”

“Thanks.”

He shot her a grin and she realized she’d missed seeing that smile. She returned it, enjoying the sensation until she remembered the reason neither of them had been smiling for so long. While they ate the tiramisu Rosa had brought over, probably to help Nick’s cause, their conversation drifted to logistics planning for Lucy, who was doing a soccer camp during school vacation.

“Do you want to have coffee on the couch?” Nick asked.

“Okay.”

“This is nice,” he said, sitting down next to her.