31
Marcus
Once we’re inside the car, Emma closes her eyes with a weary sigh, and I pull her to me, letting her head rest on my shoulder.
“Tired?” I ask, stroking her soft curls. A flowery fragrance wafts toward me, something unfamiliar but pleasant, though it does give me a tickling sensation in my nostrils.
“I’m exhausted.” Emma’s voice is muffled as she burrows deeper into my neck. “I haven’t socialized this intensely since Kendall’s twenty-fifth birthday party.”
Twenty-fifth birthday party? For some reason, I keep forgetting that my kitten’s almost a decade younger, with friends to match. I’m not exactly cradle-robbing here, but there is a definite difference between thirty-five and twenty-six. At my age, marriage and family are the norm, even in career-minded New York City, while
