Chloe’s POVThe thing about living with two people who loved you was that you learned very quickly which arguments were real and which ones were just the texture of a shared life.The shoes argument, for example, was not a real argument.“I’m not saying they can’t be by the door,” Marcus said, from the kitchen, in the tone of someone who was absolutely saying they couldn’t be by the door. “I’m saying there’s a rack. Specifically for shoes. That I installed. Eight inches from where those shoes currently are.”“The rack is eight inches away,” I called back from the couch. “That’s basically the same place.”“It is not basically the same place. The rack exists so the shoes have a place. The place is the rack. If the shoes are not on the rack, the rack has no purpose.”“The rack’s purpose is to make you feel better about the entryway.”A pause. “That’s what I just said.”Lucian appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, a mug in each hand, with the expression of a man
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