The morning air carried the scent of last night's rain, mingling with the rich aroma of coffee that filled the Vaughn family's grand dining hall. The white marble table was laden with warm dishes—flaky croissants, fresh fruit, cheese-filled omelets, and Celeste's newly discovered favorite herbal tea.
Celeste sat to the right of the table, beside Alistair, who had just arrived wearing a simple white shirt and gray linen pants. He looked more relaxed than usual, his hair still slightly damp, the clean scent of soap lingering pleasantly around him.
"My sweet," Alistair suddenly murmured, making Celeste pause with her spoon halfway to her lips.
She turned slowly, slightly startled. Alistair only grinned mischievously before resting his chin on her shoulder from the side—even as they ate.
"What? Are you embarrassed if I call you that in front of the staff?" he whispered, brushing his fingers lightly over her cheek.
Celeste huffed softly, blushing but not pulling away. The servants standing discreetly in the corner pretended not to notice, though their lips twitched with suppressed smiles.
"I just want to call you by a name that suits you," Alistair murmured, running his fingers through Celeste's hair. "Celeste Vaughn. Lady Vaughn. But somehow, those don't feel like enough. So… what if I call you my darling… my star… or my beloved pampered lady?"
Celeste lowered her head, hiding her widening smile.
Alistair smirked, then gently tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "Do you know why I'm so crazy about you?"
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because in a world full of people pretending, you came with your honest face… and made me want to protect you. For a lifetime."
The words made Celeste's heart race. She never expected the man who was once so cold to now speak words so sweet they could belong in a romance novel. And strangely, from Alistair's lips, they sounded… real.
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Come on, eat well. You'll need your strength, my sweet."
Celeste picked up a small piece of bread and resumed eating in silence, but in her heart… an irrepressible warmth bloomed. Peaceful. Comfortable.
After breakfast, Alistair took Celeste's hand and led her to the back garden.
"We haven't really had time to talk since the wedding, have we?" he said, combing his fingers through her hair. "Today, I want us to enjoy time alone. No interruptions. Just you and me, Mrs. Vaughn."
Celeste gazed at her husband's face with an indescribable feeling. She nodded slowly. The world felt peaceful.
And under the sunlight filtering through the branches of the Vaughn garden trees, their love grew… quietly, yet deeply.
Alistair and Celeste strolled leisurely along the garden path lined with smooth river stones, peonies blooming on one side while climbing roses adorned the wrought-iron fence surrounding the estate. Small birds chirped cheerfully, as if celebrating the morning's tender serenity.
Celeste held onto Alistair's arm. Their steps were unhurried. There was nothing chasing them. The world seemed to move slowly with the rhythm of their hearts.
"You know?" Alistair said suddenly, "I never thought I'd wake up to someone willing to watch the day begin with me like this."
"You sound like a lonely old man," Celeste teased with a small laugh.
Alistair chuckled but didn't take his eyes off her. "Maybe I was. But now… I just want to make you happy. In small ways, and big ones."
Celeste lowered her head slightly, letting the breeze brush through her hair. "I've never felt this at peace before."
Alistair stopped walking, turning Celeste to face him. "Then let me make that peace your new home. Forever."
He pulled her closer by the waist. "Will you—tomorrow, next week, whenever you're ready—come with me to my family's private island? We can escape everything for a while. Just you and me. Ocean breeze, white sand, and a bed with sheer curtains facing the open sea."
Celeste giggled, flushing. "Are you planning to make me unable to walk?"
Alistair raised a brow. "Possibly. But not for the reason you're thinking," he said playfully. "I just want you to forget the world… and only remember what it feels like to be loved with all my soul."
Celeste's face burned. She lightly smacked his chest before leaning against him. Alistair kissed the top of her head.
"Besides, I'm designing a new villa there. You can choose the layout, the furniture, even what plants to grow on the terrace."
"You're serious?"
"Of course. This is our future home. The future of the Vaughns."
Celeste fell silent for a long moment. "Alistair…"
"Hmm?"
"Can I love you… slowly, but endlessly?"
Alistair answered with a kiss. Soft. Warm. Full of promise.
"You can love me as slowly as you want, my sweet. Just never stop."
They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, as if time had frozen. The outside world might keep moving, but for them, love now resided in every second they spent together.
And that morning bore witness… that two broken hearts could be mended—not by force, not by pain—but by sincerity that grew day by day.