Our life. Loud. Ordinary. Full.

“They’re having a ten-year reunion next month,” she said lightly. “I was thinking about going.”

I let out a short laugh.

Not because it was funny. Because it felt unnecessary.

“Why?” I asked.

She blinked. “Why what?”

“Why go?” I said, leaning back in my chair. “So you can tell everyone you stay home and wipe noses all day?”

She turned toward me slowly.