“You know they’ll want their Auntie Lou to give them a good night kiss. That’s what Thursdays are for.”

“Just don’t go putting any ideas into their head about staying up any longer than they already have. They’ll be unbearable tomorrow morning if they stay up too late tonight. And then Auntie Lou won’t be around to make it all better.”

As soon as Phil and Lou entered the house, Jared walked toward them with a finger pressed to his lips. “They’re sleeping already. It’s a miracle.”

“Oh my god,” Phil mouthed.

“Do you want me to leave?” Lou asked, keeping her voice very quiet as well.

“Of course not, honey,” Jared said with his full voice.

They were their four-and-a-half-year-old twins Toby and Yasmine who could make so much noise just between the two of them, Lou had, on more than one occasion, excused herself from their presence because it was just too loud. She couldn’t take it. Something she would need to work on because Lou wanted to have children herself. It had been one of the big points of contention between her and Angie—one of many. But Lou was somehow convinced that any child she would produce would be incapable of making the kind of noise Toby and Yasmine did. Noise was not in her nature, so it wouldn’t be in her children’s. Yeah right. Phil was one of the quietest guys she knew, whereas his kids were the opposite.

“The wine is chilled and the kids are in bed,” Jared said. “Time for a drink with Auntie Lou.”

“She keeps emailing me,” Lou said. “I received another one just this morning.” She thought about the email Angie had sent her, and the one before, and the one before. “She keeps saying that she screwed up and that she shouldn’t have let me go and that it’s all her fault, but has she taken the time to show up in Sydney to tell me this to my face?” Lou shook her head. “No, because she doesn’t have time for that. And that’s exactly the point.” She expelled a sigh. “I think she’s sending these emails to make herself feel better about what happened. To absolve herself of the guilt that comes with a break up. To be able to face the facts now that I’ve actually gone.”

Phil tapped a fingertip against her glass. “This is empty and you know what that means.”

“I finished my wine so I should stop whining.” Lou was glad for the limit Phil had set her a few months ago, when she was still deep in the throes of heartache. Because venting was good, but everything needs limits. She pushed her glass of wine forward. “Hit me up again and change the subject.”