“No,” I said. “It was my distraction.”

“My life is here, with Lucas and Owen.”

“And with you.”

I took her hand, the skin warm and slightly rough from years of hard work.

“I don’t want you to be our housekeeper anymore, Claire,” I said.

Her face fell slightly, a shadow of worry crossing her features.

“I want you to be their mother,” I said quickly.

“And I want you to be my partner.”

“Equally.”

“We will raise them together, on our own terms.”

“No more secrets, no more employers and employees.”

She looked at me for a long time, her chest rising and falling with her breath.

A soft smile broke across her face, the first genuine smile I had seen from her.

“I would like that very much,” she said.

Ruth smiled, turned back to her cooking, and wiped a tear from her cheek with her apron.

Later that afternoon, the boys ran out onto the great lawn.

The grass was still wet, but the sun was shining brightly through the oak trees.

They carried a red leather ball between them, laughing as they kicked it back and forth.