Lily leaned against the counter, watching him closely.

“Daddy knows how to fix everything in houses.”

Chloe hid behind my legs, pointing at the refrigerator door.

“Juice.”

I poured apple juice into a plastic cup and watched the back of Max’s shirt move as he pulled hard on the wrench.

For ten years, this had been our life on a Tuesday afternoon.

He would fix a loose cabinet hinge or clear a drain, and I would make iced tea while the girls played on the rug.

A metallic click came from under the sink, and the steady drip stopped instantly.