I sit down across from her. Pass the plate of eggs. She takes some and passes it to Erion.
We eat in comfortable silence for a while. The clink of forks against plates. The sound of coffee being poured. The morning settling around us like a blanket.
"When can Luan come home?" Lily asks. Her voice is soft, tentative, like she's afraid the answer might be bad.
I finish chewing before I answer. Take a sip of coffee to clear my throat. "As soon as we pack, we can pick him up at the clinic and head home."
"Is he okay? I mean, fully okay?"
The worry in her voice makes my chest tighten. Makes me reach across the table and take her hand. Reassure her with touch instead of words.
"The doctor said there's about ten percent left to improve. But now it's just time. No more procedures. No more interventions. Just healing."
Relief crosses her face like sunrise breaking over the horizon. She exhales slowly, her shoulders dropping, tension bleeding out of her body in a visible wave.
Erion sets down his coffee cup with a soft clink. "So he can see?"
"Yes. Not perfect yet. But functional. Good enough to navigate. Good enough to read faces and expressions. He'll keep improving over the next few weeks until he's back to normal."
The tension that's been sitting in all of us for days starts to ease. Slowly. Carefully. Like ice melting in spring. Like something frozen finally beginning to thaw.
Lily smiles. Small but genuine, her dimples appearing briefly. "That's good. Really good."
"It is," I agree.
Erion leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head with a groan. "Në fund.About fucking time."
The conversation shifts. Becomes lighter. Easier. The heaviness lifting degree by degree.
Lily and Erion start talking about their walk in Zurich yesterday. "I liked it a lot," Lily says. Her voice is warm, wistful, carrying affection for a place she barely knows. "Despite the circumstances. I'd like to come back someday. Just for vacation. When things are... normal."
"We can do that," Erion says. Like it's a simple thing. Like planning a vacation together is normal. Like this situation we've created has a future beyond the next week or month.
Maybe it does. Maybe we're building something here that can last.
Maybe I'm letting myself hope for things I shouldn't want.
Lily looks around the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the countertops, the stove, the windows overlooking the lake where the water sparkles in morning light.
"I'm going to miss this house," she says quietly. Almost to herself. "Especially this kitchen."
She stands up suddenly, crosses to the counter with quick steps. Then she spreads her arms wide and wraps them around the marble surface, pressing her cheek against it dramatically like she's embracing a lover.
Erion laughs. The sound is genuine, surprised, delighted. "You should be careful,bukuri. I'm getting jealous of a piece of marble."
Lily grins at him over her shoulder, mischief dancing in her blue eyes. "You'll have to fight the counter for me."
"I'll win."
"I don't know. It's very solid. Very dependable. Doesn't talk back."
"Neither do I when I'm busy doing other things with my mouth."
Heat floods Lily's cheeks immediately. Pink spreading down her neck, disappearing beneath the collar of my shirt.
I shake my head, but I'm smiling too. Can't help it.
It's strange. This lightness. This ease. I'm not used to it. My life has been defined by duty and violence and the weight of promises I can't break. Moments like this, where laughter comes easy and the future feels possible, are rare enough to be precious.
