Alexandre's POV
Theo went to bed at seven-thirty.
This was not unusual. What was unusual was that I was acutely aware of it — of the specific countdown quality of the evening from the moment we got home, the way dinner and bath time and the bedtime story carried an undertone that had nothing to do with any of them.
Claire read the story tonight. Two chapters of something involving a small bear and a considerable quantity of honey-related mishaps that Theo found deeply satisfying. I sat on the edge of the ship bed and listened to her voice and watched my son's eyes go heavy and thought about a hallway and a hand and can we finish the conversation said on a Monday morning pavement with Paris resuming around us.
Theo was asleep before the second chapter ended.
Claire closed the book. Loo
