CHAPTER 77 - Back to Reality

The morning sun crept through the curtains, spilling warm gold across the living room. The house was quiet—too quiet, in fact. Lucian stirred beside me, one arm still draped protectively over my waist, and I watched the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. The calm before the storm, I thought, because in our house, calm never lasted long.

From downstairs came the faintest echo of giggles and tiny footsteps—my heart immediately leapt. The girls were awake. I could almost hear Aria’s voice bouncing off the walls: “Mommy, come see!”

I rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Lucian, and padded down the stairs. Sure enough, the living room was already alive with energy. Aria, Arianna, and Arian had turned the floor into an obstacle course of stuffed animals, books, and stray socks. Cassian was perched atop the sofa arm like a proud general surveying his troops, while Adrian hovered by the kitchen counter, silently judging.

“Good morning, chaos,” I said, picking my way across the floor. “Are we ready for school shopping today?”

The girls erupted into squeals. “YES!”

“Yay!” “Finally!” “We get new backpacks!”

Cassian clapped. “A strategic operation. Operation Back-to-School. I will lead. You will follow.”

Adrian groaned. “Someone shoot me now.”

Lucian followed me down, leaning against the doorway with that calm, collected air that made him seem almost untouchable. “Breakfast first,” he said. “If we leave now, there will be meltdowns.”

I nodded, helping the girls to their seats at the table while Lucian began preparing scrambled eggs. The aroma filled the house, mingling with the faint hint of morning dew that still clung to the windows. My father entered, still in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes and muttering about how some things never change.

Breakfast was its usual combination of chaos and warmth. Arian spilled her juice twice, Aria and Arianna bickered over the last piece of toast, and Cassian, in a move that should have been illegal, smeared butter across his cheeks while declaring himself ready for battle.

“Everyone,” Lucian called firmly, “hands off each other. We eat, we clean, and then we go.”

The girls groaned, but obediently picked up their utensils, while Adrian muttered, “Why do I live like this?” and my father chuckled softly.

After breakfast, the real preparation began. Backpacks were sorted, shoes were tried on, and outfits debated. Aria insisted on wearing a sparkly headband, Arianna wanted every stuffed animal in her backpack for emotional support, and Arian argued logically that one animal per backpack was optimal.

Cassian took it upon himself to label everyone’s items with dramatic flair. “Fear not, little warriors. These labels are enchanted! No pencil shall be lost, no notebook forgotten!”

Adrian, silently, labeled the items with precision, ensuring accuracy rather than enchantment. “This is not Hogwarts,” he muttered.

I watched all of it, half amused, half exasperated, and felt Lucian’s hand on my back. “It’s a lot,” I murmured.

He smiled, brushing his thumb over my shoulder. “And yet… it’s perfect. This is life. Messy, loud, chaotic. And ours.”

By mid-morning, the car was packed. Lucian had claimed the driver’s seat again, naturally, and my father squeezed into the passenger side, excited to join the girls in their first back-to-school shopping adventure of the season. Cassian sprawled across the backseat dramatically, Adrian sat rigidly beside him, and the girls tumbled in with backpacks bouncing.

Traffic was, unsurprisingly, a challenge. Aria pressed her face to the window, pointing out every interesting sign, car, and bird she could see. Arianna narrated everything in great detail, leaving Adrian to mutter about inefficiency under his breath. Arian tried to maintain calm, logical conversation, which usually ended in Cassian yelling, “NO LOGIC! CHAOS RULES!”

Lucian navigated through the city streets with quiet focus, while I kept an eye on the girls, laughing as Aria and Arianna squabbled over whether to go to the “pink pencil aisle” or the “blue notebook corner.”

We arrived at the store, and the girls bolted like tiny hurricanes. Aria dragged me to the backpack section first. She insisted that her new backpack must sparkle in sunlight. Arianna, of course, found one that made noises when touched, which she declared “magical.” Arian calculated the best backpack for weight distribution, durability, and storage efficiency.

Cassian was stationed at the pen aisle, loudly announcing, “These pens are the sword of intellect. These pencils… the shields of learning. Choose wisely!”

Adrian sighed audibly. “Someone, please, stop him.”

Lucian and I wandered together, arms brushing occasionally, smiling quietly at the chaos unfolding. “It’s exhausting,” I murmured.

“Delightful,” he corrected, a grin tugging at his lips.

We helped the girls select their supplies: notebooks, pencils, rulers, and snacks for lunchboxes. My father lingered nearby, offering sage advice and gently reminding the girls of lessons he thought might be helpful.

At the checkout, the chaos didn’t end. Aria decided she needed to explain the “science of pencils” to the cashier, Arianna demanded a recount of all items, and Cassian attempted to bargain for magical discounts. Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose quietly.

Lucian simply watched, arms crossed, smiling faintly, his gaze soft when it fell on me. “This,” he said quietly, “is our normal. And it’s better than any vacation.”

I smiled, leaning into his side. “I think you’re right.”

By afternoon, we were back in the car, loaded with school supplies, snacks, and exhausted but happy girls. The ride home was quieter. The girls napped intermittently, lulled by the rhythmic hum of the engine. My father dozed lightly, a rare, peaceful smile on his face. Cassian whispered commentary into Adrian’s ear, who only groaned in return.

Lucian reached over, brushing his hand across mine. “We did it,” he said softly.

I nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yes. And we survived.”

He chuckled. “Barely.”

Back home, we unpacked the supplies and helped the girls set up their school corners. Aria arranged her pens and notebooks meticulously, Arianna lined up her stuffed animals beside her homework area for moral support, and Arian checked and double-checked her backpack to ensure balance.

Lucian and I watched quietly, taking mental snapshots of the chaos and the love intertwined within it. My father joined us, nodding at the girls’ work. “They’re ready,” he said softly. “You’ve done an incredible job.”

I rested my head against Lucian’s shoulder, taking in the scene. “They’ll be okay,” I whispered.

“They’ll be amazing,” he corrected. “And we’ll be here, every step of the way.”

As night fell, the girls finally slept, tucked into bed with whispered goodnights and small, soft hugs. The house grew quiet, the chaos replaced by the hum of city life outside. Lucian and I collapsed onto the couch, weary but happy.

“It’s only the beginning,” I murmured.

“I know,” he said softly, wrapping his arm around me. “But we’re ready. Whatever comes next, we face it together.”

I smiled, resting my head against his chest. “Together,” I whispered.

Outside, the city lights flickered softly, a quiet contrast to the mountains we had left behind. And though the villain from our past still lingered somewhere out there, watching, scheming, plotting… inside, in our home, we were safe, we were loved, and we were ready.

Because family—messy, chaotic, and imperfect—was the greatest shield of all.