The house had finally quieted.
The twins were asleep—finally, mercifully, deeply asleep—after a chaotic mix of bubble baths, bedtime stories, half a dozen water refills, two lullabies, and one very dramatic reappearance for “just one more hug.” Isabelle had barely made it out of the nursery with her hair still intact. Sebastian, ever the indulgent father, had tucked them in twice, kissed them a third time, and still stood by the door for a moment before reluctantly following her downstairs.
Now, the halls were dim, painted in shadows and soft amber from the sconces lining the walls. The aroma of rosemary, garlic, and charred lemon drifted from the kitchen—comforting and homey, familiar in the best way.
In the dining room, the long oak table was set for two. A quiet playlist hummed in th
