Chapter 1
Chapter 1: A Happy Life
A gentle breeze drifted through the open window, carrying with it the soft chirping of birds as the morning sun bathed our bedroom in golden light. It was a beautiful autumn morning.
I stirred at the sound of soft giggles. Warm little hands pressed against my cheeks, followed by a hushed whisper.
"Mommy, wake up."
A smile tugged at my lips, but I kept my eyes shut a little longer. I already knew who it was.
"Mommy," the voice came again, more insistent this time. Then came tiny fingers poking at my cheek.
A deep chuckle rumbled from the other side of the bed. "Elijah, let Mommy sleep for five more minutes," my husband, Edward, teased, his voice still laced with sleep.
"But Daddy," Elijah whined, climbing onto the bed between us. "She promised we'd make pancakes today!"
I finally opened my eyes, greeted by my son’s bright, eager face. His dark curls were tousled from sleep, his big brown eyes filled with excitement. He looked so much like his father.
His face lit up when he saw me awake.
I sighed dramatically, stretching my arms above my head. "Did I really promise that?"
Elijah nodded furiously.
Edward chuckled and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before turning to our son. "Then I guess we better get started."
A squeal of excitement rang through the room as Elijah scrambled off the bed, rushing toward the kitchen. I sat up, watching him disappear down the hall, my heart swelling at the sight.
Edward reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers. "He’s getting bigger every day."
"I know," I whispered. "It feels like just yesterday he was a baby in my arms."
I yawned again, flopping back onto the bed, refusing to let go of the last bit of warmth and comfort.
Edward chuckled, then suddenly pulled me up by the shoulders, effortlessly leading me toward the door. "No more sleeping, babe."
A startled squeal escaped my lips. "Edward! What are you doing?" I whined, kicking my legs in protest as he carried me downstairs.
Finally, he set me down, a smug grin on his face.
"What was that?" I huffed, trying to look annoyed.
"Babe, you weren’t getting up, so I had no choice," he said, laughter dancing in his eyes.
I narrowed my gaze, trying to hold back a smile. "Still, that’s not a very nice way to wake up your wife." I folded my arms, determined to stand my ground.
Edward smirked, pulling me into his arms. "Oh yeah? Then how should I wake up my beautiful wife?"
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before trailing down to my neck—he knew my weakness. I felt myself melting in his embrace, my annoyance slipping away.
But just as I was about to lose myself in the moment, Elijah’s voice echoed from the kitchen, snapping us back to reality.
Edward pulled back, shooting me a look that clearly said, This isn’t over.
We finally made our way to the kitchen, where Elijah had already begun gathering ingredients. Flour dusted his tiny hands, and he looked up at us with pure joy.
I let out a small sigh, shaking my head at the mess my little chef had made.
"Mommy, look! I got everything ready!" he said proudly.
I ruffled his curls, laughing. "Yes, I see that. But let’s clean up a little before we start, okay?"
Together, we made pancakes—well, more like a mess. But there was laughter, and there was love, and that was all that mattered.
It was a perfect weekend morning.
A Picture-Perfect Afternoon
After breakfast, we spent the day as we always did on weekends wrapped up in the little joys of life. Elijah played with his superhero figurines, making dramatic sound effects while Edward and I watched from the couch.
"This one is the strongest!" Elijah announced, holding up his favorite action figure.
Edward raised an eyebrow. "I thought the red one was your favorite?"
Elijah shook his head. "Nope! This one is stronger. He protects everyone."
A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched them.
"He’s so much like you," I murmured, leaning into Edward.
Edward kissed the top of my head. "And he’s got your heart."
I closed my eyes, taking in the warmth of the moment.
Safe. Loved. Whole.
But a small voice in the back of my mind
whispered a warning.
Could life really be this perfect?
Because the past has a way of catching up to you, no matter how much you try to outrun it.
