The house was finally quiet, the laughter and cake now a warm memory echoing through the halls.
Emily, curled up on the loveseat by the window, looked over at Oliver, who was scribbling something into a notebook.
She tilted her head. “You’re not journaling again, are you? Because that last entry where you called me a ‘stubborn storm cloud’—”
“Loving stubborn storm cloud,” he corrected.
She tossed a pillow at him.
He caught it, laughing, and walked over to sit beside her. “Actually, I was writing out an idea.”
“Oh?”
He turned the notebook around so she could see.
In neat bullet points was a concept for a family-focused online boutique. Custom baby clothes, nursery decor, eco-friendly essentials—built around the real experience of starting over, starting fresh, and building a safe sp
