Adrian’s gaze flicked. Not fully toward me, but enough to acknowledge I existed nearby.
“How’s today?” he asked.
Before I could answer, Haille bounced in her chair like she was about to deliver breaking news.
“It’s Mommy’s birthdaaaayyyy!” she shouted, completely delighted with herself, like she’d just been promoted.
Adrian’s eyes softened instantly. “Oh yeah?” he said, leaning in as if this was the most important update he’d gotten all day. “What did you do for Mommy’s birthday?”
“Yes!” Haille said, nodding so hard her curls bounced. “We go eat. Food yummy.”
“What did you eat?” Adrian asked, amused.
“I eat bread and sausage,” she said proudly. “Finish.”
She launched into her report like she was presenting it to the board—what she ordered, what Mommy ordered, how Mommy’s food was ‘big’ how the dessert had a crunchy top that made a crack sound, and how Mommy laughed a lot.
And I watched them—watched how Adrian listened like every single detail mattered, like her toddler nonsense was the only thing worth focusing on in a foreign country across oceans.
I was still watching when I noticed Haille’s words starting to drag, her eyelids heavy, yawns swallowing the end of her sentences.
“That’s my cue,” I murmured, standing.
Adrian’s eyes lifted to her immediately. “Sleepy, bug?” he asked gently.
Haille nodded weakly, already halfway gone.
“Running out of battery,” I said, amused.
I stepped closer to the laptop, scooped Haille up easily, and she slumped against my shoulder without protest—the kind of exhaustion only children could reach in seconds. Her arms looped around my neck automatically.
“I’ll take her upstairs,” I told Adrian quietly.
“Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll wait.”
I went upstairs, tucked her into bed, kissed her forehead, stayed for a moment to make sure her breathing evened out, then I went back down.
The kitchen was the same as I’d left it, only quieter now.
I picked up my mug and sat in front of the laptop. Adrian was looking at his phone, thumb scrolling, before he realized I was back.
He set it down immediately. “Sorry,” he said. “I was checking emails.”
“It’s fine,” I replied easily, taking a sip of coffee. “No problem.”
“So,” Adrian said after a beat, his voice casual but attentive, “where did you guys go today?”
“Maison Margaux.”
His eyebrows lifted, something like nostalgia flickering across his face. “Oh… we haven’t been there in a long time.”
We.The word landed softly, quieter than it should have.
“Yeah,” I said just as quietly. “It’s been a while.”
He cleared his throat lightly, like he had to steady himself. “Happy birthday, Elena,” he said.
I blinked, like I’d forgotten my own birthday for a second. “Thank you,” I answered softly.
