JUNE’S POVI slid the key into the lock and paused for a second.This apartment was ours now. We had chosen it together, fixed it up side by side, and filled it with mismatched chairs, stacks of books, and photos that told our story.After two weeks away, walking back in felt natural.Luca nudged the door open with his hip, juggling both suitcases. The smell hit me first. No ocean breeze or tropical flowers. Just coffee, old books, and the faint trace of candles Marlene had burned while taking care of the plants.“Home,” he said, dropping the bags.I shut the door and leaned against it. “Home.”He crossed the room in a few quick steps and pulled me into his arms. We stayed there, wrapped in the quiet.“It’s good to be back,” he murmured into my hair.“It’s good to be back with you.”He gave a soft laugh. “I was with you the whole trip.”“That’s what made it good.”We unpacked slowly. The shells for Ashley went into a glass bowl on the coffee table. The champagne we saved went into the
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