The twins were officially eighteen months old.
That morning, Emilia stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the lapels of her blazer. It felt strange—this old armor. Structured. Sharp. Powerful. But also foreign now. A year and a half of baby monitors, burp cloths, and lullabies had softened her. Not weakened her—but changed her.
Behind her, Sebastian leaned in the doorway, holding a sippy cup in one hand and watching her silently.
"Do I look like I still belong there?" she asked, catching his gaze in the mirror.
He didn't hesitate. "You never stopped belonging. You just chose a different battlefield for a while."
Her lips curved slightly, but the nerves fluttered beneath her ribs. Today was her first full day back at Stone Tech, and while her assistant Tasha had kept things running in her absence, Emilia knew the corporate sharks had circled. Eighteen months was enough time for power dynamics to shift.
She walked over to Sebastian, took the sippy cup, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for not saying something cheesy like 'You've got this.'"
He smirked. "Because you already do. But also because Hope vomited on my shirt twenty minutes ago, so I've maxed out my pep talk energy."
Emilia laughed as she stepped into the nursery. Hope was bouncing in her crib with wild hair and a toothy grin, while Elian sat on the floor babbling to a plush fox. Tasha, godmother and professional miracle-worker, was already there packing their day bags.
"You sure you've got everything?" Emilia asked.
Tasha waved a bottle in the air. "Wipes, snacks, three emergency outfits, and toys that make less noise than a marching band. We're covered."
Emilia crouched to kiss both of her children, inhaling their baby-shampoo scent like oxygen. "Mama will be home before bedtime."
Hope clung to her sleeve for a moment longer than usual. Emilia's heart clenched. She pried herself gently away, masking the ache behind her smile.
As she stepped out the front door, Sebastian followed. "I packed you a thermos of coffee," he said, handing it to her. "And a granola bar. Don't ask why it's heart-shaped. Just eat it."
Emilia chuckled. "You spoil me."
"No, I love you," he said, kissing her forehead. "Now go be the boss."
---
The office building loomed ahead like a familiar mountain. Sleek glass, sharp lines, and power humming in the walls. As she entered, the receptionist blinked twice before straightening like a soldier.
"Ms. Stone. Welcome back."
Emilia's heels clicked on the polished floor as whispers followed her. Tasha had clearly kept her name alive, but seeing her in the flesh reminded people who really held the reins.
The elevator doors opened to the executive floor, and the moment she stepped out, she saw him—Gerald Lang, one of her board members. Charming on the surface, ruthless underneath. He greeted her with a smile.
"Emilia. Didn't expect you until next quarter."
"Then I'm already ahead," she replied smoothly.
He chuckled
She entered her office, inhaled the scent of expensive wood and untouched paper, and placed her handbag on the desk. Within minutes, Tasha arrived, files in hand, already launching into the status reports.
It didn't take long before Emilia's instincts kicked in. She was still sharp. Still capable. Still in control.
But something had changed.
Now, when a junior executive stumbled nervously through a presentation, she didn't just see inefficiency—she saw someone's child, someone trying. When she reviewed budgets, she wasn't thinking only of profits—she thought of people, the families their salaries fed.
By noon Tasha handed her a protein bar halfway through a meeting and whispered, "You didn't touch your heart-shaped granola bar."
Emilia chuckled. "Sebastian's going to be so disappointed."
—
That evening, when she walked through the door, her heels came off first.
Hope toddled toward her with squeals and open arms. Elian, ever her little observer, held up a drawing—three stick figures under a sun, one with yellow scribbles for hair and two little ones beside.
Sebastian peeked from the kitchen, flour on his brow. "Dinner's half ready, the kids have been half angels, and I'm completely exhausted."
Emilia walked over and hugged him tight. "You did good."
He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "So did you."
That night, as they tucked the twins into bed and the house once again sank into stillness, Emilia sat beside Sebastian on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder.
"You know," she murmured, "today reminded me why I fought so hard to become the woman I am."
He ran a hand through her hair. "And tomorrow, we fight to keep that balance. Together."