“Of course, let me get them for you.” I say, still smiling as I hand the phone to an eager Syd and Ari.

They chat for what seems like forever, sharing details of their day and weekend plans. After lunch, our day passes like clockwork, with school outside soccer drills and impromptu dance sessions.

As evening falls, the house settles into a quiet hum. I start dinner, determined to surprise the Grimes gang with one of their family recipes—a Trini beef pelau I found tucked in an old cookbook from the library.

I immediately regret picking this hell of a complicated recipe.

By the time the food is ready, I’m frazzled but triumphant. I wrangle the girls into the tub, then take the fastest shower of my life, mindful of the family’s strict 6 p.m. dinnertime. However, I do allow myself a few extra minutes to primp in eager anticipation for my wine down with Mr. Grimes.

I wash my hair, letting my tight, bouncy curls air dry. Then I embark on an internal fashion crisis, cycling through five outfit changes before settling on a soft blush satin two-piece pajama set—tasteful yet form-fitting in all the right places.

At 5:50 p.m., I rush back to the kitchen to set the table for four.

But there are still only three of us.

“Don’t worry, Syd. He’ll be here,” Ari says, her voice steady as she reassures her sister.

But when 6 p.m. comes and goes, it’s still just the three of us, and the girls’ faces grow gloomier with each passing minute.

Ari’s voice wavers with worry. “Breakfast, yes. Lunch, yes. But Daddy has never missed dinner. Is this how it’s always going to be now, Ms. Kind?”

I feel a pang of disappointment in my chest, seeing their distress and gently cover their hands with mine. “Absolutely not. Your dad wants nothing more than to be here with you. Sometimes, though, work will keep him longer than he’d like.” I try to soften the blow of reality with a hopeful tone, but their frowns deepen, pushing me to lighten the mood. “How about a special treat after dinner? Ice cream and 45 minutes of screen time. Syd, you can catch that dance competition you love, and Ari, isn’t there an Atlanta United game on tonight?”

Their expressions instantly brighten, and after dinner, I set them up with their ice cream and tv shows in their rooms, but as I wander through the quiet, sprawling house, a wave of loneliness creeps in, and I retreat to the library, curling up in my reading nook.

Engrossed in my book, I lose track of time and doze off until phone notifications awaken me at 8:00 p.m.

“Holy crap! The girls’ bedtime,” I gasp, scrambling to my feet and rushing down the hall.