“Okay,” I say. “What are your questions?” Sam climbs up on the bed next to me. Willa drifts toward Isabel instead, who’s taken a seat on her desk chair. My daughter rocks from side to side. “Does this mean you’re going to marry my dad?” she asks Isabel. Isabel glances at me quickly before looking back at my daughter. “Uh, no. It doesn’t mean that.” “So you won’t marry him?” Willa probes. Her voice has a trace of disappointment in it. I clear my throat. “Isabel and I like each other a great deal. But it doesn’t mean that we know what will happen in the future.” Willa doesn’t look impressed with
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