the next morning, Isla woke up to the sound of tiny footsteps echoing down the hallway, accompanied by a series of giggles that could only belong to Amara. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock, realizing it was far earlier than usual for Amara to be up.
“Amara?” Isla called groggily, sliding out of bed.
“Mommy, come see!” Amara shouted from somewhere down the hall.
Isla hurried to the source of the noise and found Amara in the kitchen, standing on a chair by the counter. The little girl was attempting to crack an egg into a bowl, her face lit with determination. However, most of the egg white and yolk had missed the bowl entirely, creating a sticky mess on the counter.
“Amara!” Isla exclaimed, though she couldn’t hide her smile. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making breakfast!” Amara announced proudly, holding up another egg. “Daddy says breakfast is important!”
Isla laughed softly, stepping forward to lift Amara off the chair. “It is, but I think you’re a little too young to handle eggs on your own.”
“But I wanted to surprise you and Daddy,” Amara pouted, her big eyes widening in disappointment.
Isla’s heart melted instantly. “How about this? You can be my little helper, and we’ll make breakfast together.”
Amara’s face lit up again. “Okay! But I get to stir the pancakes!”
—
As Isla and Amara cooked together, the kitchen was filled with the sound of laughter and the occasional clatter of utensils. Amara insisted on wearing an oversized apron that nearly reached her toes, making her look even more adorable.
“Mommy, look!” Amara said excitedly, holding up a perfectly stirred bowl of pancake batter.
“That’s perfect, sweetheart,” Isla praised, leaning down to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “You’re a natural chef.”
“Do you think Daddy will like it?” Amara asked, her voice filled with hope.
Isla smiled softly. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”
Just as they were finishing up, Dante walked into the kitchen, his sharp features softening at the sight of his wife and daughter.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Daddy!” Amara squealed, running over to him with batter-covered hands.
Dante caught her mid-run, laughing as she smeared a streak of batter across his shirt. “Well, someone’s been busy this morning.”
“We made pancakes!” Amara declared, pointing at the plate of golden-brown pancakes on the counter.
“And she did an amazing job,” Isla added, smiling at Dante.
“Well, I can’t wait to try them,” Dante said, setting Amara down. “Let’s eat.”
—
Breakfast was filled with chatter and laughter, Amara’s bubbly personality lighting up the room. But underneath the cheerful facade, Isla could sense a lingering tension in Dante. His smiles didn’t reach his eyes, and his responses to Amara’s endless questions were slightly distracted.
After breakfast, Dante retreated to his study, leaving Isla and Amara alone in the living room. Amara busied herself with her toys, building an elaborate castle for her stuffed animals.
“Mommy,” Amara said suddenly, looking up from her castle.
“Yes, baby?” Isla replied, sitting down beside her.
“Do you think Daddy’s sad?”
Isla’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected Amara to pick up on Dante’s mood, but her daughter was more perceptive than most.
“Why do you say that, sweetheart?” Isla asked gently.
“Because he smiles, but it doesn’t look like a happy smile,” Amara explained, her small brows furrowing in thought. “I think we should make him happy again.”
Isla’s heart ached at Amara’s words. She pulled her daughter into a hug, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’re such a thoughtful little girl,” she said softly. “Daddy’s just dealing with a lot of grown-up stuff right now, but we’ll make sure he knows how much we love him.”
—
Later that day, Isla decided to check on Dante. She found him in his study, sitting at his desk with papers scattered around him. He looked up when she entered, his expression softening slightly.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Isla replied, crossing the room to stand beside him.
Dante sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m fine. Just trying to stay ahead of Vincent’s schemes.”
Isla placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. I’m here, Dante. Let me help.”
He reached up to cover her hand with his, his gaze filled with gratitude. “You help me more than you realize, Isla.”
Before she could respond, a loud crash from the living room startled them both.
“What now?” Dante muttered, rising from his chair.
They rushed to the living room to find Amara sitting amidst a pile of blocks, her castle completely destroyed.
“Amara, what happened?” Isla asked, kneeling beside her daughter.
“I was trying to make it bigger, but it fell,” Amara said, tears welling up in her eyes.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Isla assured her, pulling her into a hug. “We can build it again.”
“Together?” Amara asked, sniffling.
“Of course,” Dante said, surprising both Isla and Amara by kneeling down beside them. “Let’s make it the biggest castle ever.”
Amara’s tears turned into giggles as she and her parents worked together to rebuild the castle. For a while, the worries and tensions of the outside world faded away, replaced by the simple joy of family.
—
That evening, as Isla tucked Amara into bed, her daughter looked up at her with sleepy eyes.
“Mommy, can we always stay like this?” Amara asked.
“Like what, baby?” Isla replied, smoothing her daughter’s hair.
“Happy,” Amara said simply.
Isla’s throat tightened with emotion. “We’ll always try, sweetheart. No matter what.”
She kissed Amara’s forehead and stayed by her side until she fell asleep.
As Isla stepped out of the room, she found Dante waiting in the hallway.
“She’s something else, isn’t she?” he said, a small smile playing on his lips.
“She is,” Isla agreed, leaning against him. “She loves you so much, Dante.”
“And I love her,” he said, wrapping an arm around Isla. “And you.”
Isla looked up at him, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. For now, they had this moment of peace, and she was determined to hold onto it. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together-as a family.