"I'll let you try." I reached up, touching his face. "But Cassian? If you run again—"
"I won't. But if I do, chase me down and drag me back." A hint of that half-smile I loved. "I'm not too proud to be rescued from my own stupidity."
He kissed me then, soft and sweet and full of promises neither of us was quite ready to voice yet. When we pulled apart, Leo's voice drifted from the living room.
"Cass? Mama? Play trains?"
"Coming, buddy!" Cassian called back, but his eyes stayed on me. "Stay with us? Please?"
Like I could be anywhere else.
We spent the morning building elaborate train tracks that wound through the living room, creating tunnels from cushions and bridgesfrom books. Leo directed with absolute authority while Cassian and I followed orders, stealing glances and small touches when Leo wasn't looking.
It felt almost normal. Almost like a real family.
Around noon, Leo was deep in dinosaur negotiations when Cassian caught my hand.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
He hesitated, suddenly looking nervous in a way I'd never seen from him. "Would you… would you both want to go to the park? This afternoon?"
The park. Where Leo had been taken. Where everything had fallen apart.
My instinct was to say no, to keep us safe in this penthouse fortress. But I looked at Cassian's face and saw what this really was—him asking to face that fear together. To reclaim something that had been stolen.
"Security?" I asked quietly.
"Triple what we had before. Marco personally overseeing everything. I wouldn't suggest it otherwise." He squeezed my hand. "But if you're not ready—"
"I'm ready." And surprisingly, I was. "Leo needs to know that place doesn't own us anymore."
Relief flooded his expression. "Thank you."
"What are we thanking Mama for?" Leo looked up from his dinosaur battle.
"For agreeing to go to the park," Cassian said. "All three of us. Would you like that?"
"Park!" Leo's face lit up. "Swings! Can we, Mama? Please?"
I looked between them—my son's hopeful excitement and Cassian's careful determination—and nodded. "Yes. We can go to the park."
The October air was crisp and cool, leaves crunching under our feet as we walked the familiar path. I held Leo's hand on one side while Cassian flanked his other, both of us instinctively protective.
The park was busy with weekend families. Children shrieked from the playground, dogs chased balls, and joggers passed us on the path. Normal. Safe.
Leo tugged toward the swings, but Cassian's hand on my arm stopped me before I could follow.
"Can we talk first?" he asked. "Just for a minute. There's something I need to say."
My stomach flipped. "Okay."
He led me to a bench with a clear view of the playground, where we could see Leo but have privacy. We sat, and he immediately took my hand, as if needing the anchor.
"Last night," he began, then stopped, jaw working. "Last night I told you I loved you."
"I remember." How could I forget?
