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“Babies are pretty pliable. You’ll see. They fall on their face and keep going. Unlike us adults. We’re the fragile ones.”
Life with Heather and Miranda was simple, beautifully routine. They went to work. Miranda went to school. Their excitement started and ended with themselves—because it was family. Because that was what mattered. But now, standing among people that he’d once called peers, friends, colleagues, the people he’d shared triumphs and failures with before life with Heather, reality looked him square in the face. Maybe it wasn’t age. Or being a parent. Or traveling through time and dealing with criminals. Maybe Don was right. Maybe he’d just finally outgrown his old life.