"Thank you," Brian said, grateful. He crushed out the old cigarette, opened the new pack and lit one. "I know my pack at home is about that old too, really. I only smoke one in a blue moon, really. And if Michael didn't make sure that Robert's cigarettes were relatively fresh from time to time, his would be older than that.
"I suppose he and I both smoke for the same reason. We smoke when things get to us. Its not a good habit, but we don't do it often. Not sure where either one of us got onto doing it. Truth be told, I prefer the whiskey.
"Come to think about it, I think I probably got started in Paris," he said. "It was far more accepted amongst the Parisians than it ever was here. When I lived in Paris, it seemed I was around it all the time. I'm guessing one of the men in the Paris office got me started." He thought of how all he had had then was work. Work and loneliness. "It was a very different time back then," he said quietly. "I don't know that I'd go back to it.
"Even with all we've been through, for me to think about life without Khaat, without Abbey and Dakota and the triplets? I can't imagine it anymore. I just don't want them growing up having to get used to living like we have to live now. I want them to be a lot freer than we feel like we are."