I paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before they noticed me.
Cassian stood at the stove, spatula in hand, while Leo perched on the counter beside him in his dinosaur pajamas. Flour dusted every surface, batter dripped on the stovetop, and both of them had white handprints on their clothes.
"No, Cass! That one's burning!" Leo pointed with urgent authority.
"You're absolutely right. Good eye, buddy." Cassian flipped the pancake, revealing a slightly too-dark underside. "Think it's salvageable or should we start over?"
"Still good." Leo was utterly serious, as if pancake rescue operations were matters of life and death. "Just scrape the black part."
"Smart thinking." Cassian ruffled Leo's curls, leaving a flour handprint in his hair.
My throat tightened. He'd come. He'd gotten Leo up, made breakfast, and kept his word. He was trying.
"Mama!" Leo spotted me first. "We make pancakes! Help Cass!"
Cassian turned, spatula still in hand, his eyes finding mine across the kitchen. I saw everything there—nervousness, hope, determination. And underneath it all, unmistakable love.
"Morning," he said quietly. "Hope you don't mind. I got Leo when he woke up. Thought you could use some extra sleep after… after everything."
"It's perfect." I moved into the kitchen, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "Thank you."
"Sit, Mama!" Leo bounced with excitement. "We serve you! Special breakfast!"
I slid onto a stool at the island, watching them work together. Cassian plated the misshapen pancakes while Leo carefully—tongue stuck out in concentration—carried syrup and butter to the counter.
"Here you go." Cassian set the plate in front of me, his fingers brushing mine as he placed a coffee mug beside it. That simple touch—deliberate, warm—said everything we hadn't yet spoken aloud.
The pancakes were lumpy, slightly burned, and absolutely perfect.
"They're beautiful," I said, and meant it.
Leo scrambled into his booster seat with his own plate. "We good team, right, Cass?"
"The best team." Cassian settled beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched. He didn't pull away.
We ate together, Leo narrating his elaborate plans for the day while Cassian and I exchanged glances over his head. Checking. Connecting. Making sure this was real.
After Leo finished and ran off to play with his trains, Cassian and I stood side by side at the sink, cleaning up the flour explosion in companionable silence.
"You kept your promise," I said softly.
He set down the bowl he'd been washing and turned to face me. "I told you I would. I know one morning doesn't erase three days of running away. That I have a lot to prove still. But I'm here, Isla. And I meant what I said last night. I'm not going anywhere."
"I want to believe that."
"Then let me prove it." He stepped closer, his hands finding my waist. "Let me spend every day showing you that I meant it. That I'm done being afraid."
I looked up at him, this man who'd broken my heart and was now carefully, determinedly putting it back together. "What if you get scared again?"
"Then I'll remember last night. Remember how much worse it felt to push you away than to risk staying." His thumb traced circles on my hip. "And you'll call me on my bullshit. Like you always do."
I couldn't help it. I smiled. "You're counting on me being mean to you?"
"I'm counting on you being honest with me." He leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine. "That's all I ask. Be honest. Call me out when I'm being an idiot. And let me love you. Let me try."
"Okay," I whispered.
"Okay?"
