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This was my Dylan. And I got it; of course I did. I would do anything for him. For the kids. For all of my children.

Just.

“And then when you’re all back, we’re going to go stay at that hotel.”

“Country house retreat.”

“No kids allowed.” Constance smiled. “I’m going on my school trip, and you guys are having a sleepover next doorso Dad and Stewart can have some…” She gulped in mock disgust. “Alone time.”

“Yesss.” Marmie punched his fist in the air. “Jay’s got the new PlayStation, and we’re going to be up all night.”

“Not if I can help it,” Dylan said, kissing his son’s head. “And I’ll get Mommy to ring you and check that you’re in bed.”

“She won’t know. We’ll pretend to be sleeping and turn the lights out.”

“I’m sure Gray and Reubs will keep an eye on you. You can’t play tricks on them,” I suggested, as Marmie rolled his eyes. These kids. The death of me. I might as well go fly planes because I stood no chance here.

“Gray stays up with us. He let us stay up really late last time.” I wasn’t so sure of that. I knew those two, and yeah. Whatever made them happy.

“You deserve some time away from everything, Stewart. You work too hard.”

“I do. I don’t deserve to go on planes.”

“You’d get to stay in a nice hotel.”

“Can’t think ofanything worse.”

“We’ll take you out. You can have burgers. And Twinkies! I miss Twinkies.”

“We can all go on a swamp tour. There’s alligators. Crocodiles. Mommy will no doubt be working all the time, and we’ll have to entertain ourselves.”

“What’s the difference between an alligator and a crocodile?” Marmie asked.

“I… We’ll have to Google that,” I said. “Good question, though.”

“An alligator will see you later, but a crocodile will see you in a while,” Marmie said triumphantly as Dylan gave him a high-five.

“Good one, son!”

“Then just think, you’ll get to have a weekend away with Dad,” Constance continued, clearly thinking she was winning this conversation. “A country house. Hot tubs on the veranda. Private dinners…”

“You’ll get me all to yourself.” Dylan was not helping here. “Well, maybe I won’t get a word in, since you know the owners. I might have to sit in that hot tub all by myself.”

“Dylan,” I barked. Reined it in. God. “I very much doubt Mark and Finn will take any interest in me. It wasn’t like we knew each other that well. We were colleagues, and I got a good discount. Mates’ rates. They probably won’t even be there.”

I should be so lucky. Former colleagues or not, they’d always run a tight ship, and their little country venue had fabulous reviews. The views looked great—right by the sea, a short drive away. Not a plane in sight. I sighed.

“Constance, I’ll think about it. The course. Let me sleep on it, and I’ll see how I feel.”

“You won’t regret it. Look at it like this. You’ll cure your phobia, and then we get to go to the Maldives.”

“And I’ll get to see real crabs. And swamps. Big alligators.”

“It will be good,” Dylan said, wrapping his arms around me. “It would be a massive relief. For me. If you did.”

“And in return?” I was being a dick. I’d already agreed to all this madness. How could I say no?

Here was the man I loved, his son gently patting my arm and his daughter laughing at me as Marmie stole another biscuit.