The ocean breeze was soft against Amelia’s skin as she sat cross-legged on the terrace, sipping coffee from a white ceramic mug. Early morning sunlight shimmered on the water, and the world felt distant, muted, as if nothing bad could reach her here.
Almost.
Inside the villa, she could hear Oliver’s laughter as he raced around the living room, the clatter of toys and tiny feet filling the space. Andrew’s deeper voice followed, patient and warm in a way that made Amelia’s chest ache.
She hadn’t planned to feel this way.
She hadn’t planned for anything at all.
Andrew stepped out onto the terrace a moment later, wearing dark gray sweatpants and a plain black T-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. He was holding a second cup of coffee—this one for her.
He set it down wordlessly be
