Lila's P.O.V
The sapphire on my finger had become second nature now, a subtle weight that reminded me of promises kept rather than dreams deferred. Eight months into marriage, and Blackwood Manor hummed with a rhythm I’d never dared imagine: Ethan’s footsteps on the creaky stairs in the morning, the scent of his coffee mingling with Lavigne’s fresh scones, evenings spent sketching greenhouse expansions or debating paint swatches for the guest cottages. Life was steady, full, almost suspiciously perfect.
Then came the trip to Europe.
Ethan’s career had taken an unexpected turn the previous year. What started as a passion project—designing sustainable training facilities for elite athletes—snowballed when a prominent French football club commissioned him for their new academy outside Pari
