By early afternoon, the house quieted. The boys sprawled on the living room rug with comic books. Claire sat with a mug of tea, scrolling her phone. Daniel yawned, stretching his back. “I think I’ll grab a quick nap,” he said, patting her shoulder. She smiled, eyes still on the screen.
He climbed the stairs, the house creaking in familiar ways. In the bedroom, he drew the blinds halfway, letting muted light filter across the quilt. He lay down, exhaling deeply, the hum of ordinary life settling around him. For once, he felt no pull of work, only contentment.