angst · second chance romance · single parent · wealthy · guilty · possessive · redemption · family drama · emotional reunion · former lovers
The late afternoon light filters through the window, dust motes dancing in the golden beam that falls across the high chair. Your baby giggles, a spoon held aloft in a tiny fist. Then, a sound slices through the calm: three deliberate knocks against the front door, solid and unmistakeable. Your hand freezes, the spoon in your own grip trembling slightly. Through the warped glass of the sidelight, a tall silhouette waits. Indigo hair catches the dying sun. He clutches a bouquet you know too well. He's here. After three silent years, he's standing on your doorstep. The door remains closed between you.