"I know, I know." Elena is intensely focused.
I watch them together. This is what I want. This exact thing. Every morning, every day, for as long as we can have it.
But how long will that be?
Lupo looks up and catches me watching. The heat in his gaze makes me flush. Last night is written all over his face, and suddenly I'm very aware of Elena standing between us.
"Coffee?" I ask, my voice slightly strangled.
"Please."
I make coffee while they finish the eggs. When we all sit down to eat, it feels surreal. Like I'm watching someone else's life. Someone who gets to have this kind of happiness.
Elena chatters about wanting to feed the chickens after breakfast, about a drawing she wants to show Lupo, about how she thinks we should get a cat.
"A cat?" Lupo asks, amused.
"Yes. To catch mice. And to cuddle."
"Those are good reasons." He glances at me. "What do you think, Mama?"
The way he says it, Mama, like he's part of this unit, like he has a say in family decisions, makes my throat tight.
"Maybe," I manage. "We'll see."
After breakfast, Lupo helps Elena feed the chickens while I clean up. Through the window, I watch them together. He's crouching down to her level, listening intently to whatever she's tellinghim. She's gesturing wildly, excited, and he's nodding like she's saying the most important thing in the world.
Elena has never had this. A man who pays attention, who's gentle, who makes her feel important.
Draco was never like this. Even when Elena was a baby, even when he claimed to love her, it was always conditional. Always about control. He'd hold her when people were watching, but the moment she cried too long or made him look bad, I'd see that flash in his eyes. That rage barely contained.
That's when I knew we had to leave. When I realized the violence that lived in him wouldn't stay directed at only me forever.
Lupo is different. Everything about him is different.
They come back inside, and Lupo announces he needs to get ready for work. Elena pouts but accepts it when he promises to play with her tonight.
I follow him to the bedroom while he gets dressed. Watch him pull on his shirt carefully, favoring his ribs.
"You should stay home today and rest," I say. "What if you tear the wounds open?"
"We need the money." He turns to face me. "I'll be careful. I promise. If we didn’t open any wounds last night, I’m sure I’ll be fine carrying lumber." He crosses to me, cupping my face. "Don't worry about me."
"Too late."
“I'll be back before dinner. And tonight, we can pick up where we left off."
Heat floods through me. "What about Elena?"
"We’ll wait until she’s asleep." He grins. "I'm a patient man, Isabella. I can wait."
"Go on then," I say. "Before I don't let you."
He leaves, and the house feels emptier without him. Elena and I fall into our usual routine, cleaning, playing, tending the garden. But part of me is always listening for him. Waiting for him to come home.
After lunch, I put Elena down for her nap. She fights it, but eventually her eyes close and she's out.
I should rest too. Should take advantage of the quiet. But instead, I find myself sitting at the kitchen table with my phone.
