The night deepened around them, settling into the house like a second skin.
Samantha became aware of the smallest things—the steady rhythm of Marcus's breathing against her shoulder, the absentminded way Kai traced idle shapes on her thigh as if grounding himself through motion, the subtle shift of Callum's weight whenever a sound carried from the nursery. None of it felt urgent. None of it felt fragile. It felt… lived-in.
Which was new.
"I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop," Kai admitted quietly. "Like we're about to realize we missed something important."
Marcus huffed a soft laugh. "You say that every time things are calm."
"Because calm is suspicious," Kai replied. "Historically."
Samantha smiled, her fingers still combing through his hair. "You're allowed to enjoy things without preparing for disaster."
"Am I?" he asked lightly, but his grip tightened just a fraction.
