Arthur sat in his car for a moment, staring at the house. The front yard was lined with flowering hedges Celeste had planted herself—her pride and joy. The sight of them always reminded Arthur of simpler times—back when the most complicated thing in his life was balancing work with Sunday brunches.
Now, the storm that was Reina had returned—and he was caught in it. But so long as it involved her? Yes, I'll gladly be stuck in it, he resolved in his mind.
He got out of the car, brushing a hand through his hair, and walked toward the door. Before he could even knock, it swung open.
“You’re late,” Celeste said, her arms folded, her brows raised in askance. She wore a loose gray sweater and joggers, her curly hair swept into a high bun at the top of her head. Behind her, her four-year-old so
