Selene's POV
After the laughter at Ayra's boutique had softened into goodbyes and see-you-laters, Antonio and I drove through the sleeping city streets. Paris shimmered under the night sky, its rhythm slowed, soft jazz playing from the radio as he held my hand in the quiet.
When we reached his home, the warm lights spilling through the curtains were already a comfort. The scent hit me first—something spiced, something slow-cooked. Devina's signature.
"Smells like heaven," I whispered as we walked in, slipping off my coat.
"You'll say that again when you taste it," Antonio said, his voice laced with a smile.
Devina stood at the kitchen island, wearing an apron dusted with flour and a triumphant grin. "I knew you two would come hungry," she said, waving us in. "Sit. Eat. Tell me everything."
"Hi, Mrs. Reyes," I said warmly, leaning in for a brief hug.
"Mama, please," she corrected with a wink.
Mira and Amara popped their heads from the hallway like curious kittens.
"Selene!" Amara chirped, rushing in to hug me.
Mira followed with a gentler smile. "You've survived another shift. Miracle in itself."
Antonio chuckled and headed toward the table, pulling a chair out for me before settling beside. "We've earned this meal."
Mr. Reyes soon joined, his presence always calm but commanding. He nodded in greeting, then gave a rare, amused smile. "I heard Devina made your favorite, Selene. Consider yourself honored."
"I already do," I said truthfully, looking around at this home that had, slowly but surely, opened itself to me.
The dinner was filled with laughter—Devina scolding Amara for sneaking too much dessert, Mira recounting a hilarious story from university, Antonio passing me bites off his fork with soft teasing glances.
But it was the moment the conversation settled, plates emptied and tea being poured, that truly stayed with me.
Mr. Reyes leaned back, observing us with that thoughtful gaze of his. "You've both grown," he said simply. "I see it. And I hope you're both proud of who you've become—with, and without, each other."
Antonio took my hand under the table. A gentle squeeze. My heart fluttered.
"I am," I said softly, looking at him. "I'm proud of us."
Devina smiled from across the table, warm and fierce. "And we are too."
There wasn't a grand announcement or some dramatic gesture. Just comfort, shared meals, and genuine connection. Sometimes, love didn't have to be loud.
Sometimes, it was this: a table full of stories, a kitchen full of spice, and the steady beat of hearts choosing to stay.
After dinner I greeted all of them with goodnight.
Antonio dropped me home.
The car ride home was quiet—comfortably so. The kind of silence where everything that needed to be said had already been spoken, where the spaces between words were filled with looks and unspoken warmth.
Antonio's hand rested on the gear, his other occasionally brushing against mine between the turns. The headlights painted soft gold across the familiar streets as we neared my house.
"I wish tonight didn't have to end," I murmured, my voice barely above the hum of the engine.
He glanced sideways, his smile touching the corners of his eyes. "If I had my way, I'd keep you with me always. But you'd start calling me clingy."
I laughed gently. "You already are."
He pulled up in front of my home, the porch light casting a halo around the steps. For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then, he turned to me, eyes tender beneath the moonlight streaming in through the windshield. "Thank you for today. For coming to dinner, for being… you."
I leaned closer, caught in the gravity of his presence. "Thank you for picking me up. For knowing exactly when I needed you."
He exhaled, as if letting go of all the thoughts he didn't say out loud. Then, with the gentlest touch, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing along my cheekbone.
And then he kissed me.
Slow. Warm. A pause in time. One that said everything his words didn't have space for.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against mine.
"Goodnight, Selene Adele Laurent," he whispered, his voice a soft promise.
"Goodnight, Antonio Reyes," I replied, heart fluttering like a secret in the dark.
I stepped out slowly, still feeling the press of his lips, the heat of his hand in mine. He waited until I was safely inside before driving away, headlights fading like the close of a dream.
And even though the night was quiet… I didn't feel alone.
Not anymore.