Rachel was curled up in her little bed, her tiny arms clutching her stuffed bunny like her life depended on it. Her curls were a messy halo around her face, and her lips were parted in a sleepy pout.
"Five more minutes," she mumbled even before opening her eyes, tugging the blanket up to her nose.
Lucas chuckled quietly. "She's definitely your daughter," he murmured near Bella's ear.
Bella shot him a mock glare. "She's exactly like you when I try to wake you up."
He smiled at that, then crouched beside Rachel's bed. "Little princess," he whispered, brushing a stray curl from her face, "if you don't wake up, your pancakes will get cold."
One eyelid popped open suspiciously. "Pancakes?" she asked, still muffled by her blanket.
Bella leaned closer from the other side. "Yes. But only for girls who wake up before the pancakes fall asleep."
Rachel groaned dramatically but peeked both eyes open, blinking up at the two faces hovering above her. She blinked once, twice—then grinned.
"You both look funny together," she said sleepily, voice small and raspy from sleep.
Lucas's lips curved. "Funny?"
Rachel nodded and sat up, her curls bouncing. "Yeah. Like two marshmallows stuck together."
Bella's laugh burst out before she could stop it. "Marshmallows?"
Rachel nodded seriously, rubbing her eyes. "Uh-huh. Soft, sweet, and always together."
That made Lucas pause, and Bella, realizing what Rachel just said, felt her cheeks heat up at the same time Lucas's did.
And that was precisely when Rachel stretched out her arms. "Kiss, please."
Both leaned down automatically, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheeks at the same time—only to bump their foreheads slightly mid-way.
"Ow," Bella giggled.
Rachel squealed in delight. "Again! But on both sides this time!"
Lucas and Bella exchanged helpless glances before doing exactly that, kissing each of her cheeks together again. Rachel looked very pleased with herself. "See? You're perfect now."
"Go brush, little marshmallow," Lucas said, smirking as he stood. "Before I eat all the pancakes myself."
Rachel gasped. "Nooo!" She scrambled out of bed, darting toward the bathroom with her bunny still in hand.
Bella was laughing quietly when Lucas turned back to her. "She definitely gets her drama from you."
Bella raised a brow. "Really? And where do you think she gets her stubbornness?"
He just grinned and walked off toward the kitchen. The smell of something rich and savory soon filled the air. Bella helped Rachel get ready—tiny socks, pink ribbons, and her favorite dress —while Rachel hummed about her dreams about a marshmallow house.
When they finally entered the kitchen, both Bella and Rachel froze in identical awe.
On the table sat a beautifully arranged dish neither of them had ever seen before—a golden, layered pancake stack topped with a drizzle of honeyed butter and bits of caramelized fruit on the side. Next to it, Lucas was stirring something in a pan, humming softly under his breath.
Rachel gasped. "What's that?"
Lucas turned, a smirk playing on his lips. "A little morning experiment. Pancakes with ricotta and caramelized pears."
Bella blinked. "Ricotta and… pears?"
Rachel looked at Bella, confused but impressed. "Is that even food, Mama?"
Lucas laughed, sliding the plate in front of her. "It is. And it's going to ruin all other pancakes for you forever."
Rachel's eyes widened. "Then I'll eat them all now before that happens!"
Bella shook her head, laughing softly as she took her seat. "You're impossible."
"You love it," Lucas murmured as he placed her plate down, his hand brushing hers briefly before pulling away. And maybe she did.
Breakfast was warm and full of chatter—Rachel's stories about school, Bella's mock complaints about early mornings, Lucas's quiet laughter threading through it all. When they finally finished, Lucas helped Rachel pack her lunch.
"You made that too?" Bella asked as he carefully tucked the box inside Rachel's little backpack.
"Of course," he said with a faint grin. "Lunch day is serious business."
Rachel hugged both of them before running to get her shoes.
"I'll drop her," Lucas said softly, taking the car keys.
Bella nodded, watching as he knelt to help Rachel tie her laces—his movements easy, practiced, and filled with a gentleness that melted her. When they left, the apartment felt oddly quiet.
By the time Lucas returned, Bella was sitting at the table, her notebook open, pages covered in scribbles. Her brows were furrowed, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
"You look like you're trying to solve a murder," Lucas teased as he walked in.
Bella sighed, slumping back in her chair. "I can't figure out what they might ask. Every answer I come up with feels wrong."
He raised a brow. "Didn't you give interviews before?"
"Yes," she muttered. "But this one's different."
"How so?"
Her gaze flickered toward him, thoughtful. "Because the answers change… you."
That made him pause mid-step. "Me?"
She smiled faintly. "You. Rachel. Us. Everything feels… connected now. It's not just about getting the job anymore."
For a moment, he just watched her—soft sunlight catching the curve of her cheek, the faint tiredness in her eyes, the quiet determination beneath it.
Then he moved closer, leaning against the table. "Alright. I'll help. But on one condition."
Her eyes lifted, hopeful. "What condition?"
He crossed his arms, feigning seriousness. "A strong black coffee."
Her face lit up instantly. "Done."
As he disappeared into the bathroom, she got up quickly, humming under her breath as she prepared the coffee just the way he liked it—strong, dark, and a hint of cardamom that she'd figured out by accident once.
By the time he came out, toweling his hair, she was waiting with the mug in her hands.
"Perfect timing," she said, handing it to him with a proud little smile.
He took a sip, closing his eyes. "You always make it right."
"Of course I do," she teased lightly. "You're my only customer."
His lips quirked. "And a very demanding one."
Her smile softened, but the frustration in her eyes returned as she glanced back at her notes. Lucas noticed.
"The last time I checked," he said, setting down his mug, "Bella didn't like taking help from anyone."
Her head tilted slightly, a teasing spark lighting her face. "What's wrong with taking a little help from my own husband? It's not like I'm asking somebody else's husband."
Lucas froze, heat rushing to his face before he could stop it.
She caught it immediately. "Are you blushing, Lucas?"
He turned away slightly, muttering, "I'm free for only ten minutes, sweetheart. So maybe you should start asking your questions."
Her laughter filled the air, soft and bright, before she darted off to fetch her diary.
And even though he said he had ten minutes, Lucas knew he wasn't going anywhere—not when she looked that alive, that happy, that his.