He was tall, quiet, the kind of man who remembered which triplet was which and always asked how I was sleeping.
« It’s a love language. »
« You look wrecked, Bel, » David said once, kindly. « Let me hold Tobby while you eat something hot. »
« You don’t have to. »
« I want to. Sit down. »
***
Over the past few months, I’d noticed David growing quieter around my husband.
He still came by, still bounced the babies on his knee, but when Richard cracked one of his jokes at my expense, David’s mouth would flatten into a line.
« You don’t have to. »
My husband’s friend would suddenly become very interested in whatever bottle he was warming or anything else in the vicinity. Anything but Richard.
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