~ Bonus Chapter 5 ~
The kitchen was loud in a way that only came from years of shared life.
Not chaos exactly—just layers of sound. A cabinet closing too hard.
The hum of the dishwasher. Reina's voice rising indignantly as she argued a point she was absolutely convinced she was right about.
Alexander pacing with his backpack slung over one shoulder, checking his phone, then checking the counter, then checking his pockets like the world might end if he forgot something small.
"I told you," Reina said, arms crossed, brown eyes flashing—Eva's eyes. "You're supposed to email the teacher, not upload it."
Alexander stopped mid-pace. "I did email her."
"You emailed the wrong teacher."
"I—" He stopped, frowned, checked his phone again. "...Okay maybe."
Eva stood at the sink rinsing fruit, watching them with that familiar quiet presence that had always anchored the room. She didn't raise her voice. Didn't intervene right away. She just waited, letting them spin it out, letting them learn.
"Alex," she said gently, without turning around, "your lunch."
He paused. "I packed it."
She finally looked over, eyebrow lifting just slightly.
A beat passed.
"...I forgot it," he admitted, turning back.
Eva slid the lunch bag across the counter toward him like she'd known all along. No commentary. No judgment. Just care.
Reed watched from the doorway, coffee mug cooling in his hand, chest doing that quiet ache it always did when he took them in like this.
Alexander—tall now, all angles and seriousness, blue eyes so unmistakably Reed's it still startled him sometimes.
Reina—still full of motion and fire, brown hair always falling out of whatever tie she used, laugh too loud and completely unapologetic.
They were both protective in different ways. Both stubborn. Both kind.
Both theirs.
"Dad," Reina said suddenly, hopping down from the counter. "Can you drop me closer to the gate today? It's freezing."
Reed glanced at the weather on instinct. "It's sixty-two."
She stared at him. "That's cold emotionally."
Alexander snorted. "You're dramatic."
"Observant," she shot back.
Reed shook his head, smiling despite himself. "Grab your jacket."
Reina beamed—victory secured—and darted toward Eva, wrapping her arms around her mom's waist in a quick, fierce hug before running off for her shoes. Eva's hand automatically went to her hair, smoothing it down, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
Reed stepped closer, lowering his voice. "She's got your timing."
Eva smiled softly. "And your stubbornness."
He leaned down and kissed her cheek, slow and familiar, like breathing. Alexander pretended not to notice. He always did. But when Reed clapped a hand on his shoulder as they headed out, Alexander leaned into it just slightly—just enough.
"Text me when you get there," Reed said.
Alexander rolled his eyes. "I'm fifteen."
"And I'm your dad," Reed replied evenly. "Text me."
"...Fine."
The door closed behind them, taking the noise with it.
The house exhaled.
Eva leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes for a moment. Reed crossed the room and pulled her into him without thinking, her forehead resting against his chest. His hand settled at her lower back, thumb brushing slow, grounding circles like it had for decades now.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "Just... proud."
"Yeah?"
"They're good kids," she said softly. "Kind. Protective. Loud. Stubborn." A small laugh. "We did okay."
Reed kissed the top of her head, lingering. "You did more than okay."
Eva looked up at him then, really looked—at the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the steady calm that had never left him, the way he still touched her like she was something precious and chosen.
"We did it together," she said.
His smile was slow, real. The same one that had undone her at twenty. The same one that still did.
Always had.
Always would.
And as Reed laced his fingers through hers, squeezing once, grounding them both in the middle of their imperfect, beautiful life, Eva knew—without doubt—that this was the love they had built.
Not loud.
Not flashy.
Just solid.
Just forever. ??