“But I wouldn’t trade any of it.”
The room went silent.
Claire kept reading.
“Someday we’ll miss the noise. We’ll miss the toys on the stairs and the crying at two in the morning. Someday this house will be quiet, and we’ll wish we had it back.”
I closed my eyes.
I remembered that letter.
Our fifth anniversary.
We were exhausted.
Broke.
Running on almost no sleep.
But happy.
Claire’s voice changed.
“You wrote this?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
“When?”
Still nothing.
Then Claire began questioning everything he had told her.
