The King's estate is alive with music and laughter. Fairy lights dangle like tiny stars from every tree in the sprawling backyard. A small crowd has gathered to celebrate the arrival of Noah and Sienna's twins. The theme is unmistakable—soft blues for their son and delicate pinks for their daughter. Silk ribbons in both colors wrap around the columns of the grand patio, and tables are adorned with matching floral arrangements—roses, peonies, and hydrangeas carefully placed in crystal vases. A lavish archway stands at the center of the yard, crafted from intertwined blue and pink roses, where the naming ceremony is about to take place. Everything is perfect, elegant, yet deeply personal—just the way Noah insisted it should be. Sienna sits on a white chair beneath the arch, holding her twins, one in each arm. She’s radiant despite the exhaustion that comes with being a new mother. Her figure, still recovering, is wrapped in a simple but stunning dress of soft cream silk. Her bobbed
Seven months later, Sienna is standing on the brink of what feels like an emotional cliff, one that’s littered with equal parts joy and sheer panic. She’s not exactly sure how she’s made it this far, but somehow, she’s here—carrying twins, something that still doesn’t quite feel real. Despite the overwhelming support from Noah, his mother, and all the other people around her, there’s something deeply personal about these moments. They’re hers, and hers alone. But today, she’s about to share this experience with Noah in a way she never expected. Mrs. King had been a frequent visitor, popping by to help Sienna with anything and everything. From checking on her health to making sure she was eating properly, Mrs. King always knew how to show up and make Sienna feel cared for. It was more than just maternal instinct—it was love, pure and simple. Everyone showed her love and support, and Sienna was starting to feel more like a mother than she ever thought she could be. But today—today was
Sienna wakes up to the gentle caress of dawn’s light peeking through the curtains, her body swaddled in the luxurious silk sheets that seem to whisper sweet nothings to her skin. As she stretches, the soft fabric rustles, releasing the faint scent of Noah’s cologne, which lingers on the pillows beside her like a gentle reminder of his presence.She lies there for a moment, savoring the peaceful atmosphere, her mind wrapped in the serenity of the morning.But as the minutes tick by, the weight of her responsibilities begins to creep into her consciousness, gently tugging at her mind like a persistent whisper. With a soft sigh, Sienna kicks off the covers and swings her legs over the side of the bed, her feet dangling in the air as she sits up.The bathroom beckons, and she rises from the bed, padding softly across the floor. As she passes by the mirror, she catches a glimpse of herself, her bobbed hair mussed from sleep, her eyes still heavy with the remnants of slumber.Noah had alrea
Ibiza had been a place of healing and renewal for Sienna and Noah, where they deepened their love and rediscovered each other. It was there that Noah proposed to Sienna once more, this time determined to give her the proper wedding they both deserved. Without hesitation, she said yes. Mrs. King had been overjoyed when they shared the news, eagerly announcing that she would invite all her favorite people to celebrate. And now, here they were, bringing that dream to life in Washington, D.C.Sienna couldn’t quite keep her hands steady as Mrs. King led her down the aisle. The older woman’s touch was warm, her arm a steadying anchor against the whirlwind of emotions crashing inside her. Mrs. King had offered to walk her without hesitation, and though Sienna had been reluctant at first, now she was grateful. With every step, she felt the weight of the moment settles in, the sheer magnitude of what lay ahead. The aisle stretched endlessly, a glistening path of white framed by cascading f
Sienna stands in front of the mirror, running her hands over the fabric of her black gown, a simple piece, knee-length, hugging her curves just enough to make her feel... seen. Not in the way she used to, when the world felt distant, but in a way that feels like she's finally back. She can almost feel herself, the woman she once was before all the chaos and the pain. She’s still her, but somehow more whole.She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, smoothing down any stray strands, and as she catches her reflection, she can’t help but smile. It’s a quiet smile, almost foreign, but it feels right. She’s not broken anymore. She’s healing, piece by piece. She’s getting closer to the woman she wants to be, and maybe, just maybe, she’s starting to accept that she deserves to feel it.The door creaks open behind her, and she doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. She feels his presence the second he enters. It’s like the room shifts, the air thickening with his energy, his magnetism.
The jet lands smoothly on the private runway, the scent of saltwater faint in the air as the engines wind down. Sienna steps into the aisle, stretching and shaking off the remnants of her nap. Her bare feet are cold against the polished floor, but her focus is on Noah, who stands ahead, adjusting the sleeves of his clothes. He glances back, offering her his hand. “Ready?” he asks, his voice low, steady. “For Ibiza? Always,” she replies, slipping her hand into his as they descend the steps. But as they approach the tarmac, her steps falter. Standing at the base of the stairs, holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers and white roses, is a woman whose presence Sienna never imagined seeing here—Noah’s mother. Sienna’s smile freezes, her expression a polite mask even as her stomach knots. Leaning toward Noah, she whispers, “What’s your mother doing here?” The words come out light, almost playful, but there’s no hiding the tension in her voice. “She’s here to meet us,” Noah repli