Decades slipped by like soft rain over the countryside villa.Draven’s hair turned silver at the temples. Deep lines framed his grey eyes—the marks of storms survived, of nights spent worrying, of years spent smiling beside Belle. Belle too carried gentle wrinkles around her mouth; her hair had threads of grey woven through the chestnut, and the birthstone necklace Draven had given her still rested against her skin.The triplets were grown now. Leo ran his own ethical investment firm. Luna toured with theatre companies across the country. Aiden worked at an aerospace research institute. Nova taught at the Blackwood School. Mindy and Alaric practiced medicine at the family clinic. They visited often—but no longer lived full‑time beneath the villa roof.And now the grandchildren were here.One afternoon, Belle sat on the porch wrapped in a wool shawl, watching the little ones race across the orchard. Draven lowered himself carefully beside her—his knees stiff, his breath a little slower
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