Page 7 of Destiny

“Good night, love bug,” he says before kissing Aurora’s forehead.

“Good night, Daddy.”

“Good night, cookie monster.” Then it’s Alessia’s turn.

“Night, Daddy.”

“Wait! You have to kiss Randall goodnight.”

She holds up her stuffed otter that I have been told countless times she cannot sleep without.

“You’re right. How could I forget? Mwahhh. Good night, Randy.”

“He says thank you.”

Marco chuckles. “Okay, I love you.”

“Love you too,” his girls say in tandem.

He cracks the door closed, and we’re left alone in the hallway.

“Uh, I should probably get going,” I whisper.

“Yeah, okay.”

We both turn to walk down the stairs together and bump shoulders.

“Oh, sorry,” he says.

“That’s okay.”

Then, he seems to lean closer toward me, and for a very brief moment, I think—and hope—that he’s going to kiss me.

But instead, he just removes a fluff of some kind from my hair.

“It’s probably from Aurora’s ratty baby blanket. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve found similar particles on my person and around the house.”

I don’t know how else to respond, so I just chuckle a few times.

Then, we finish our ascendence back to the first floor of his home.

“Can I ask your opinion on something?” he seems to ask out of nowhere.

“Um, sure.”

“Sorry, I know you want to get going—”

“No, it’s okay,” I say as I check my watch and see that it’s only nine o’clock.

“Okay. Care for a beer or glass of wine?”

“Sure. Wine, please.”

“Red or white?”

“White.”

“Here you go,” he says after pouring me a glass. We’re sitting on the island.

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