It was quiet, but final.
***
That evening, once all three kids had finally drifted off, I slipped out of the room in my flip-flops and rode the elevator down to the lobby.
The receptionist at the front desk smiled at me. Her name tag read, “Nina.”
“Trouble sleeping?” she asked gently.
“Something like that,” I said. “I need to make some changes to our reservation. It’s supposed to be under my name because my husband thinks that’s romantic.”
Nina smiled, pulled up the booking, and I watched her eyes flick across the screen.
I slipped out of the room.
“Yes, ma’am. You’re the primary guest. The reservation, all rooms, and all add-ons are on your account. You can modify any of it.”
I took a slow breath. I must have looked worse than I thought, because Nina’s face softened.
“My youngest is about the age of your little one,” she said quietly. “I recognize that look. Long day?”
