Things were going well. Really well. A little too well, a dark voice in Robin's mind liked to add. It made him wonder when and how this would all fall apart, all be taken from him. One difference in his life now was that, most times anyway, he would seek someone out and acknowledge his concerns. More often than not it was Marian. And when he couldn't talk to his wife about it for fear of upsetting her, it was Claire. She had essentially told him what he needed to hear, and so he was doing his best to ignore his worries, in the hopes that in time he could dismiss them altogether.
That was really what he wanted, too. With how wonderful things were, at least in his most immediate little family, the last thing he wanted to be doing was worrying. He wanted to be enjoying their new house, and the things they had chosen to fill it with. And he wanted to enjoy the knowledge that in less than nine months he and Marian would have a child, and this time nothing was going to take that chance away from them. Not if Robin could help it.
It was mid afternoon when he finished at the centre, and like most days he'd walked home, enjoying the cooling weather and the quiet. Once he was inside he put his keys on the table in the hall, hanging his jacket from one of the hooks on the wall. It didn't take him long for the smell of chocolate to reach his nose, and with a smile he started in the direction of the kitchen. Apparently, Much was home.
When he entered the kitchen the smile was still on his face. "I'd have thought you'd have had enough of baking for the next year or so." Taking a glass from the cupboard he filled it with water, standing by the end of the bench as he watched his friend mixing ingredients. "This isn't dinner, is it? Not that I have any complaints but Marian won't be impressed."