They developed a routine without really talking about it.
Gabby refused to give up hers—sending the kids to school in the morning, picking them up in the afternoon. It grounded her. It reminded her that no matter how complicated things became, some parts of her life stayed steady.
Matt didn’t question it.
He just joined her.
Mornings became a shared rhythm.
Gabby would be in the kitchen first, hair loosely tied, already dressed but barefoot, moving around like she’d done it a hundred times before. Lunch boxes on the counter. The burr of a juice extractor. The quiet hum of an ordinary day starting.
Matt would come in after—freshly showered, sleeves rolled up, tie still undone. Sometimes he’d stand beside her without saying anything, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him.
