The morning came soft, like breath on glass.
Nova sat on the porch with a mug of black coffee, barefoot in Liam’s oversized shirt, watching Cassia sleep in her bassinet beside her. The garden still held the scent of last night, honeysuckle, damp grass, and something electric, like the trace of lightning long after a storm.
Liam emerged from the kitchen, hair still damp from his shower, holding two plates of toast and eggs. He placed one in front of her and kissed the crown of her head.
“You didn’t sleep,” he murmured.
Nova shrugged, eyes still on Cassia. “Some nights, I don’t need to. I just… watch her.”
He settled beside her. “You’re not afraid anymore?”
She turned to him, slowly. “Of what?”
“That you’ll lose this.”
She hesitated. Her fingers tightened around the mug. “I think...
