Those ordinary moments had become precious to him.
Their daughter was due in a few weeks, and everything in Marcus’s life seemed to have narrowed down to one simple goal:
Get Elena and Sofia safely through the next few weeks.
Then everything would change.
He turned onto their street.
The lights were still on inside the house.
He smiled.
His mother had insisted on coming for the weekend with Marcus’s sister, brother, cousin, and several other relatives.
“One last family weekend before the baby comes,” she’d called it.
Marcus hadn’t been thrilled about having a house full of people while Elena was eight months pregnant, but his mother had promised him that she would handle everything.
“You work too much,” she’d said.
“Let Elena relax. We’ll take care of the cooking.”
Marcus had believed her.
As he pulled into the driveway, he could hear laughter coming from inside.
His mother’s laugh.
His sister’s louder, sharper laugh.
His brother’s deep booming voice.
The sound actually made Marcus smile.
For a moment, he forgot how tired he was.
He imagined walking through the front door and finding everyone gathered around the television.
He imagined Elena sitting comfortably among them.
Maybe she’d already eaten.
Maybe his mother had kept her promise.
Marcus shut off the engine.
He grabbed his bag and walked toward the house.
But the moment he opened the front door, something felt wrong.
Not obviously wrong.
Not enough to explain.
Just… wrong.
The living room was full.
His mother was sitting comfortably on the largest couch.
His sister was stretched out beside her.
His brother had his feet on the coffee table.
His cousin was leaning back in an armchair.
Two aunts were talking over one another.
Someone had opened another bottle of wine.
The television was playing loudly.
Nobody noticed Marcus at first.
Nobody got up.
Nobody even asked how his day had been.
