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Sarah had just been wondering if the boys were having fun in Paris when her phone buzzed. Charlie was sending her a selfie, the two of them on the top of the Eiffel Tower with the sun in their face and Paris in the background. Nick wasn't wearing a hat, she noted, but he'd clearly been careful with the sunscreen, because his fair skin wasn't reddened at all.

And, what was more important, they both looked very happy.

"Lovely!" she texted back. "Glad you're both having a good time." She was touched that they'd taken the picture and sent it to her, and she wondered if they knew how much she was missing them. With David here, the house wasn't empty, but it was noisy in all the wrong ways. And he was in and out at all hours without telling her where he was going or when he'd be back, unless he was begging for the car.

So the sight of those two happy faces was the best thing that had happened to Sarah all day. She sent them a smiley face, just to let them know how much she appreciated the thought.

Then she stared at her phone, wondering if Nick had connected with Stephane, and if so, how that had gone. Her finger hovered over Nick's contact, then she swiped to Stephane's. Then she sighed and thought better of both. Neither of them would thank her to meddle in their relationship, although it wasn't clear to her that they would ever have one without her interference. Still, Nick was growing up, and theoretically, Stephane was grown. If the two of them couldn't manage to work out a way to see each other when they were in the same city, no help from her was going to improve the situation.

Sarah frowned at her phone. Her last text exchange with Stephane had been to confirm that Nick had completed his GCSEs; the one before that, when Stephane informed her that David wouldn't be able to come to Paris for the summer. Nothing else. No questions from him about Nick's exams or David's semester at uni, no queries about their schedules or indication that he'd like to see them.

No interest in the two boys they'd given life to.

She wondered, as always, how that was possible. Stephane wasn't a bad man. He wasn't cold, or mean, or stingy. He had many friends, a lively social life, a new wife. People enjoyed his company. His checks arrived like clockwork, often for more than he was obligated to send. He just … had made a new life for himself, one that didn't include his sons.

Sarah sighed, and opened Nick's contact again, typing quickly before she could overthink. "You catch up with your father yet?"

The answer came back quickly. "Not yet. Hopefully soon."

She could imagine what that meant. Unanswered texts, phone calls gone to voicemail. She'd been there. Often she still was, if something relating to the boys needed to be communicated. She wanted to talk to Nick about the likelihood that Stephane would never manage to make time for him, and how that was not in any way Nick's fault or responsibility … but he still had hopes for his relationship with his dad, and she didn't want to dash those hopes. Let Stephane do that himself, if it was going to happen.

"Hopefully," she replied instead. "How is Paris?"

"Good. You got the selfie?"

"Yes, thank you. It was lovely!"

Nick sent back a smiley face. She wanted to ask about Charlie, about coming out—and, prosaically, about whether he was eating well and getting enough sleep—but he was on his trip. He didn't want to spend a lot of time texting his mum, especially when it sounded like he was spending more time than he'd planned chasing down his father. No doubt she'd hear all about it when he got back.

She saved the boys' selfie as one of her rotating wallpapers and closed the phone, going to search for David. He wasn't home, it seemed, but his dirty clothes were, strewn all over his room. Well, that was his job to do. She'd stopped doing their laundry when they were in their early teens, viewing that as an important chore for young people to learn how to do. And also, because she had never been good about keeping on top of it herself.

Standing here in the empty hallway, both her boys away, she had a view of what life would look like very soon. In only a couple of years, Nick would be going to uni, David would graduate and move on with his life, and this would be her day-to-day—a quiet house, occasional texts, wondering and worrying and missing them.

Her eyes stung with tears.

Then she told herself sternly to get it together. She still had Nick at home for two more years, and it was entirely possible that he might go to uni close enough to live at home. There was no sense borrowing sadness from the future when she didn't know what it might hold.

"Nellie!" she called. "Come on, old girl. Let's go for a lovely walk."

The dog came running, smiling up at her while Sarah clipped the leash on her collar. Nellie would be here when the boys were gone, she knew, but … for how long? She wasn't a young dog anymore. Maybe it was time to think about another dog, one to be a companion for Nellie, who would struggle as much as Sarah would when Nick was gone.

She opened the door and stepped out into the sunshine of a summer day, letting the dog pull her along the sidewalks.