Page 64 of Monstrosity
"Bath time," I announce when the plates are cleared, grateful for the routine.
"Do we have to?" Cali whines.
"Yes. No arguments." I'm too tired for negotiations.
Surprisingly, they comply without putting up a fight.
Maybe they sense the tension in the air, the way everyone's being extra careful with each other.
Even their bedtime story requests are mild—Florencia wants to hear about the princess who rides motorcycles again, while Cali just wants to cuddle.
"Dasha?" Florencia asks as I'm tucking her in. "Is your neck going to be okay?"
"It'll be fine, sweetheart. Just bruises. They'll fade."
"Daddy looked really mad when he saw them," she observes.
"He doesn't like when people hurt the ones he loves," I explain carefully.
"Neither do I," she says firmly. "If I knew who did it, I'd use my new fighting moves on them."
"That's very brave of you," I tell her, smoothing her hair. "But that's Daddy's job, okay? Your job is to be a kid."
"Being a kid is boring sometimes," she sighs, but settles into her pillow and eventually drifts off to sleep.
Cali is already snoring her little head off.
Once I know both of the girls are sleeping soundly, I head downstairs to the main room to chat with the ladies.
We talk about dumb things, about the things that don’t really matter but make all the difference when it comes to stressful situations.
He's showered and changed, looking calmer than he did earlier.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, sitting beside me on the couch.
"Sore but okay." I touch my throat self-consciously. "The bruises look worse than they feel."
"Liar." But he says it gently, wrapping an arm around me.
"Get a room," Meghan teases, but there's affection in it.
"Don't mind if we do," Rio replies, standing and tugging me up with him. "Early night. Big day tomorrow."
The knowing looks from the other women follow us out, but I don't care.
We need this time together before tomorrow's storm.
Back in our room, Rio checks the locks—a new habit—before joining me in bed.
We don't make love again, both too emotionally wrung out.
Instead, we hold each other in the dark, not needing words.
"After tomorrow," he says eventually, "we're taking a vacation. Somewhere safe and boring. Maybe Disney World."
"The girls would love that," I murmur against his chest.
"What about you? What would you love?"
