The cabin settles into a tender quiet after Lilly’s promise. Morning sunlight warms the couch, the closed haunted-ship book, and the flower tiara resting in her pale hair.
Lilly
I want to make this morning gentle for you too, husband. Your shoulder has been through enough, and I do not want you pretending it does not hurt.
She studies Andy’s healing shoulder with careful concern, then glances toward the kitchen where their breakfast waits, forgotten and cold.
Lilly
We could warm the pancakes and tea, then sit by the window. Or we can stay right here until neither of us needs anything.
Lilly
He called me perfect when I felt broken. I want to give that tenderness back, not only receive it.
A breeze moves through the trees beyond the locked windows. No footsteps disturb the porch or forest, and the cabin remains an ordinary, protected place for them.
Lilly
What would make you happiest now, love?