Chapter 80

Elara

The house was alive with the all-too-familiar chaos of a school morning. Somewhere down the hall, Ella was shouting at Zoe about taking too long in the bathroom, and Zoe’s shrill rebuttal wasn’t far behind. The smell of toast lingered in the air, mingling with the faint bite of fall that crept through the open kitchen window.

And then there was Alexander—currently wrapped around my legs like he was glued to me, his face pressed into my skirt, and a steady stream of snot soaking through to my skin.

“I don’t wanna go to school!” he wailed, his voice muffled but still somehow loud enough to rattle my eardrums. His tiny hands clutched fistfuls of fabric like letting go would be the end of the world.

“Alex,” I said softly, crouching down so I was eye level with him. He sniffled, his bottom lip quivering as his tear-streaked face came into view. My heart twisted, but I bit back the urge to scoop him up and promise he didn’t have to go. “It’s just a few hours,” I soothed, brushing the messy hair out of his eyes before pulling a tissue from my pocket to wipe his nose. “And if you’re really brave, Daddy and I will take you and your sisters out for ice cream after. How does that sound?”

His big brown eyes, so much like his father’s, widened just slightly. “Ice cream?”

I nodded. “Your favorite kind. But only if you go, okay?”

For a moment, he considered it, his small brow furrowing like it was the most important decision of his life. But then his fingers loosened their iron grip, and he nodded slowly, sniffling again.

“He’s such a crybaby,” Ella groaned as she appeared in the doorway, her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. She looked far too grown up for eleven years old, her hair swept into a ponytail and her expression already carrying the faintest trace of preteen annoyance.

“Hey, be nice to your little brother,” Alaric said as he walked in behind her. He placed a hand on Ella’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “You cried even worse than this on your first day of kindergarten.”

“I did not!” Ella shot back, crossing her arms with a dramatic huff.

“You did,” Alaric said with a smirk, his gaze flicking to mine for confirmation. “She wouldn’t even let go of the front door. I had to carry her all the way to her classroom.”

Ella’s face flushed, and she glared up at him. “That’s not true!”

“I don’t know, it does sort of sound like you,” I chimed in, unable to hide the grin that was tugging at my lips.

Zoe appeared beside her sister, still brushing her hair. “I bet you would scream like a big crybaby. You always cry for no reason.”

“Do not!”

“Do too.”

“Girls,” Alaric cut in before the bickering—which had been increasing lately as they were both getting older—could escalate. “How about you stop teasing your brother and maybe help him out today? It’s his first day.”

Both girls groaned in unison, but after a sharp look from their father, they finally relented.

“Fine,” Ella muttered, glancing down at Alex with a reluctant sigh. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t get lost or whatever.”

Zoe grinned. “We’ll keep him alive. Probably.”

Alex sniffled again, looking between his sisters with a mixture of awe and trepidation. “You’ll stay with me?” he asked quietly.

“For a little bit,” Ella said, her tone softening just a fraction. “But only if you stop crying. You’re gonna embarrass me in front of my friends.”

Alex wiped his nose with the sleeve of his uniform, and I stifled a groan at seeing the pristine shirt already dirtied before the day had even begun. “Okay.”

I smiled, brushing a hand over his messy hair before standing. “That’s my boy.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Alaric said, clapping his hands together. “We don’t want to be late.”

The walk to the car was full of the usual complaints—Ella didn’t like wearing her seatbelt, Zoe thought Alex was taking too long, and Alex was still trying to decide if he really wanted to go through with this whole school thing. But somehow, we made it there in one piece.

The school was bustling when we arrived, the parking lot teeming with parents and kids, all hurrying toward the bright red doors at the front of the building. Alex’s grip on my hand tightened as we approached, his eyes wide as he took in the sea of unfamiliar faces.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, crouching down beside him again. “See those doors? You’ll go in there with your sisters, and your teacher will be waiting for you. It’s not scary, I promise.”

Alex didn’t look convinced, but Ella and Zoe flanked him, each taking one of his hands.

“We’ve got this, Mom,” Ella said, her tone exasperated but affectionate.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart tugging in two different directions. They were all growing far too fast for comfort; it seemed that just yesterday, Zoe was attending her first day here. I wanted them all to stay little and attached to my hip forever. But when Alex looked up at me, his eyes brimming with both fear and excitement, I forced myself to let go.

“Go on,” I said softly. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

He nodded, clutching his sisters’ hands tightly as they led him toward the doors. He turned back once, his small face breaking into a hesitant smile when he saw us waving at him.

And then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd of kids.

Alaric’s hand found mine as we stood there, watching the three of them disappear up the path. His grip pulled me back to reality, and it was only when he handed me a handkerchief that I realized I’d been crying.

“They’ll be okay,” he said as I took the handkerchief and dabbed at my eyes.

I nodded, leaning into him as the autumn breeze rustled through the trees. “I know.”

We stood like that for a while, just watching the stream of children and parents until the crowd began to thin out. The morning sun was climbing higher now, casting a soft golden glow over the playground and the building beyond.

“They’re growing up so fast,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “It feels like just yesterday Zoe was clinging to my legs, and now she’s helping her little brother go inside.”

Alaric chuckled, his arm curling around my waist to pull me closer. “Time moves too quickly. But look at everything we’ve built. They’re happy. They’re safe. That’s what matters.”

I tilted my head back to look at him, my heart swelling at the quiet pride in his expression. He’d been my rock these past five years, the one constant in a world that seemed constantly determined to throw us off course. And even now, after everything, he still made me feel like we could handle anything.

“Thank you,” I said softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“For what?”

“For this. For all of it. I don’t know how we got here, but… I’m glad we did.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Me too.”

The sound of the school bell rang out, signaling the start of the day. Parents began to disperse, heading back to their cars or chatting quietly among themselves. But Alaric and I stayed where we were, watching the red doors close behind our children.

Not his. Not mine.

Ours.

As the world around us settled into a quieter rhythm, I rested my head on his shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. We were in no rush to leave just yet. And for the first time in forever, everything felt right.

We were here. We were together.

And I was happy.