LOGINSix months later:“Ethan, don’t touch that.”“I’m not touching it.”“You’re about to.”“I’m standing.”I turn from the counter and look at him.He’s standing exactly where he shouldn’t be. Too close to the stove. Too interested in something that does not concern him.“Move,” I say.“I live here.”“That doesn’t mean you supervise.”He smiles, but he moves anyway.Good.The kitchen is warm. Not from anything special. Just… used. Lived in. The scent of garlic and herbs lingers in the air, mixing with the faint salt breeze drifting in from the open patio doors. There’s something on the stove, something in the oven, and something I’m probably forgetting.Sunny runs past us, nails clicking against the floor, then slides slightly and keeps going like nothing happened.Ethan watches him.“That dog has no balance.”“He has confidence,” I say.“That’s worse.”I check the pot, stir once, then step back.“Set the table,” I tell him.He doesn’t argue.That’s how I know we’ve grown.A few minutes l
I wake up before anyone calls my name.Not because I’m anxious. Not because something is pulling me out of sleep.Just… awake.The room is quiet in that early kind of way where the day hasn’t fully started yet. No movement outside the door. No voices. No rushing. Just stillness.I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.Today.The word feels simple. It should feel heavier. Bigger. Like something I need to prepare for.It doesn’t.It just settles.I sit up slowly, letting my feet touch the floor. The air feels cool against my skin. Grounding. Real.For a second, I don’t move.I just sit there and let myself feel it.Not excitement. Not nerves.Something steadier.The dress is exactly where it was left last night.I walk over to it, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric. It feels softer than I expected. Less intimidating.This is not my first wedding.That thought comes, and for a brief moment, I pause.Not in discomfort. Not in regret.Just acknowledgment.The first time was
The first thing my mother does when she sees my hand is grab it.Not gently. Not carefully. She just takes it like she has every right to, like she has been waiting for this moment and is done pretending she hasn’t.“Let me see.”I laugh, but it comes out softer than I expect.She turns my hand toward the light, angling it slightly, her thumb brushing over my fingers as she studies the ring like she is trying to understand something beyond what it looks like.“It’s beautiful,” she says.“It is.”I’m not even looking at the ring anymore. I’m looking at her.Her face. The way her expression shifts slowly. Pride first. Then something quieter. Something that looks a lot like relief.“You look different,” she says.I tilt my head slightly. “Different how?”“Happier,” she replies.She says it like she is still testing it. Like she wants to believe it fully but is giving herself a second to be sure.I don’t rush to answer.I just nod.Because I am.Not in a loud, overwhelming way. Not in a w
Mara’s voice is still in my head the next day.Not loud. Just… there.Are we getting an actual wedding this time?She said it like a joke. Like something to laugh about over drinks and forget on the drive home. But it stayed. Followed me into sleep. Sat with me while I opened the café in the morning. Slipped into quiet moments when I wasn’t doing anything important.An actual wedding.I don’t know why that feels different now.Maybe because this time, it wouldn’t be about fixing anything. Not proving a point. Not surviving something.Just choosing.My phone lights up while I’m wiping down the counter.Ethan.I don’t open it immediately.I finish what I’m doing. Rinse my hands. Dry them. Then I pick up the phone.Ethan: Are you free?I stare at it for a second longer than necessary.Me: Depends.The reply comes quickly.Ethan: On what?I lean against the counter.Me: Where you’re taking me.There’s a pause. Not long. Just enough for me to picture him reading it.Ethan: You’ll like it.
The house won’t leave my head.Not in a dramatic way. It’s not consuming me or anything like that. It just keeps showing up in small flashes. The kitchen mostly. The light in that space. The way it didn’t feel like a display, like something waiting to be admired and left alone. It felt… usable.Which is a strange thing to fixate on.But I do.“Okay, I’m about to drag it out of you.”Mara drops into the chair across from me like she’s been rehearsing this moment all day.I blink, coming back properly.“Drag what out of me?”She leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes sharp.“What happened.”“Nothing happened.”She stares at me.Long enough that I feel like I should add something.“We saw the house,” I say.“And?”“It’s nice.”She freezes.Actually freezes.Then slowly leans back like she needs space from me.“Nice.”I nod.“Yes.”⸻lMara presses her lips together like she’s trying not to say something offensive.“You disappeared for hours. Came back looking like you’ve just… I don’t e
It starts with my phone refusing to be quiet.Not one notification. Not two. It keeps going like something is trying to get my attention and won’t take no for an answer.I’m at the counter, pretending to focus on something small and unnecessary, wiping a spot that doesn’t exist anymore. My hands are busy, which usually helps. Keeps my thoughts from wandering too far.The phone buzzes again.Then again.I ignore it.Mara doesn’t.“You’re not going to check that?”“I will.”“You’ve said that three times.”“I mean it this time.”She doesn’t respond, which usually means she’s watching me instead.The phone buzzes again.I exhale, drop the cloth, and reach for it.The screen lights up with stacked notifications. Too many for something normal. Too many for something small.I open one.A headline.I don’t react immediately. I just read it.Then I read it again, slower this time.“Ethan Cole Expands to Miami, Establishing Independent Venture Beyond Family Holdings.”I blink.Scroll.Another h
By the time I get home, my feet hurt in that dull, quiet way that feels older than my body. Like exhaustion that’s lived in me for years and is only now stretching out. I kick off my shoes by the door and they land wrong, one on its side, one upright. I leave them there. I don’t turn on the lights
The elevator doors close too slowly. I feel Ethan behind me even though he isn’t touching me. His presence lingers like heat after a fire has been put out badly. The mirrored walls show my reflection from too many angles. A woman in a gown. A woman who smiled for cameras. A woman who is about to f
I wake up in the afternoon. Not because I’m lazy. Because my body gave up somewhere between crying and not crying and decided sleep was the only thing left it could do for me. The light in the apartment is wrong. Too clean. Too quiet. It hits the walls like it doesn’t know me yet. I lie there fo
The message stares back at me like it’s daring me.Ethan: Really, Luca?That’s all he says. Two words and a name. No context. No curiosity. Just accusation. Ownership disguised as disappointment.My fingers are shaking. I can feel it in my wrists, up my arms, settling behind my eyes. I haven’t crie







