Nora's POV
The apartment smells like garlic, white wine, and home.
I'm wrist-deep in shrimp scampi, humming off-key to whatever indie playlist Elias put on, when the doorbell rings.
I wipe my hands on the apron Caleb bought me last Christmas (it says KISS THE COOK, BUT ONLY IF YOU BROUGHT WINE) and jog to the door.
Elias stands there in his best button-down, cheeks pink, holding the hand of a tiny girl with lilac hair and the softest smile I've ever seen.
"Nora, Lila. Lila, Nora," he says, voice cracking like he's fifteen again.
Lila waves shyly. "Hi. You're prettier than the pictures."
I melt.
I also elbow Elias hard in the ribs.
"She's really pretty," I mutter under my breath.
He glares, but he's grinning so wide his face might split.
I usher them in, t
