The jingle of keys and the soft thud of our footsteps echo in the quiet house as we step inside, the world outside cloaked in the hush of early morning. The long flight from Matheus and Valentina’s celebration has left us weary, but the brief naps on the jet have chased away sleep, leaving a restless energy humming between us. The air is cool, tinged with the faint scent of lavender from a candle left burning on the entryway table, and I feel the weight of the day—laughter, shared glances, and the lingering heat of our stolen kisses—settling into my bones.
“Finally home,” Oliver sighs, his voice low, a mix of relief and something heavier, as he drops his jacket over a chair.
I laugh softly, setting my purse on the sofa, the leather cool against my fingers. “Was it that bad?” I tease, cat
