LOGINEmma It had been a few weeks since we dropped Alina off at college, but the quiet in the house still caught me off guard sometimes. The silence wasn’t empty—it was just… different. Softer. Calmer. There were no sudden bursts of teenage energy, no last-minute shopping sprees for school supplies, and no heated debates over outfit choices or curfews. Now, it was just us and Amelie, our quiet, slightly more independent second child, who was growing up faster than I’d ever expected. He’d taken Alina’s departure with surprising maturity, perhaps sensing the shift in the household and stepping into his own version of big-kid responsibility. But even with one child still at home, the difference was tangible. Killian and I had time to see each other again. Not just in passing, not just in the blur of a chaotic day, but truly see one another. Our morning ritual hadn’t stopped—it had only deepened. Every sunrise started the
Emma The first morning without Alina was quieter than I expected. The house felt more spacious, the corners less filled with her laughter and music, the kitchen less cluttered with her half-finished cereal bowls. Killian and I had the space to breathe, but it felt so… empty. Even our younger son, Leo, was still at school. For the first time in years, we were alone. I woke up to the soft weight of Killian beside me. His warmth wrapped around me, but there was a difference today. A certain stillness that seemed to be hanging between us. After all these years of constant activity, endless schedules, and busy mornings, it felt surreal. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the silence. I grabbed it without thinking, seeing a message from Alina. “Made it through the first day! It’s been fun, but I miss you both. Let’s Skype tonight?” I smiled. It was the same old Alina, taking everything in stride
Emma I couldn’t stop fussing with Alina’s hair, smoothing it down even though it was already perfect. She gave me a patient smile, the same one she used when she was five and I wouldn’t stop adjusting her princess crown. Now, she was eighteen, radiant, confident—and I had to let go. Letting go. I hated the phrase. “We should take a photo here,” I said, blinking away the sting in my eyes. “Right in front of the library.” Alina rolled her eyes, but obligingly stepped closer to the stone steps. “Mom, you’ve already taken a hundred pictures.” “And I’ll take a hundred more,” I said softly, clicking the shutter on my phone. “I’m proud of you. You know that, right?” She nodded, her expression softening. “I know. I love you, Mom.” I hugged her tightly, inhaling her scent—vanilla and something floral, the same perfume she borrowed from me last week. It made my he
Emma’s POV The sun filtered through the tall windows of our kitchen, casting warm light across the breakfast table like golden ribbons. The soft hum of the espresso machine filled the silence, accompanied by the occasional rustle of paper or tapping of fingertips against a screen. Across from me, Alina sat in her favorite seat—tucked into the corner, backlit by the morning light, her dark curls piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She looked so grown up in her oversized sweatshirt and bike shorts, scrolling through her college checklist on her iPad like she was planning a corporate presentation instead of preparing for her first year at university. My heart twisted at the sight. She pursed her lips in concentration, muttering something about needing an extra extension cord and double-checking whether her laptop charger would be long enough for the dorm layout. Her checklist was long and color-coded—of course.
Emma The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday morning, sunlight spilling gently through the curtains as I sat at the kitchen island, sipping tea. Alina and Luca were still asleep after their big day at the school event yesterday. It had been sweet, chaotic, and beautiful—watching them perform, chatting with other parents, and sneaking glances at Killian every few minutes, our private smiles stretching across the crowd. I felt settled. Happy. But also… restless. In a good way. Lately, the days had been so full of kids, work, and routines that I’d found myself longing for more of him. Not just Killian the father or Killian the business partner—but Killian, the man I’d fallen in love with under fire, secrets, and uncontainable passion. Last night, he’d barely touched me as we collapsed into bed, too tired to do more than murmur goodnights. But today, I wanted to change that. I
Emma The scent of coffee wafted through the kitchen as I buttoned up my blouse, twisting my hair into a soft bun while keeping one eye on our son, who was chasing a crumb across the breakfast table with his spoon. Saturdays weren’t usually this early or this formal, but today was the school’s annual Family Day event—and both Alina and Amelie had been buzzing about it for a week straight. “You look hot,” Killian murmured behind me, arms slipping around my waist as I poured juice into two small cups. “And you look like a dad who’s about to be mobbed by kindergarteners,” I teased, glancing down at his slightly rumpled navy shirt. “Fix your collar.” He leaned down and kissed the side of my neck. “Fix it for me. You’re the reason it got like that in the first place.” I laughed under my breath. He wasn’t wrong—we may have gotten a bit distracted before getting out of bed. But the moment I







