The morning sun filled the Donovan sunroom, spilling golden light over the long table. As I stepped in, I immediately felt a warmth that eased the tension knotted in my stomach. Marie Donovan sat at the head of the table, a soft smile curving her lips the moment she saw me.
"There you are, Ellie," she said, rising gracefully to greet me. Her voice carried both authority and gentleness, the kind that made you want to sit and stay awhile. "You know you don't need to wait for an invitation. This house has always been as much yours as Sophia's."
My chest loosened at her words. I'd heard them before, so many times, but today they landed differently.
Marie crossed the room and took my hands in hers, squeezing them lightly. "Every time I see you, I think of those nights you and Sophia would sneak cookies into her room and insist you weren't the ones who left crumbs everywhere."
Her laughter was light, the memory vivid.
I blushed, smiling despite myself. "We thought we were clever back then."
"Oh, you were," she teased, guiding me to sit beside her. "Just not clever enough to outsmart a mother."
The ease between us settled my nerves. Marie had always been like this with me, open, tender, treating me not as an outsider but as though I were another daughter under her care. Even now, with the house carrying heavier air, her presence reminded me of warmth and safety.
"You've grown into such a strong young woman," she said softly, her eyes searching mine. "Angie must be so proud."
The mention of my mom tugged at my heart, but I nodded. "I believe she is. Sometimes, I feel she has done so much for me. I wish I could do more for her."
Marie's hand covered mine, reassuring. "You already do, Ellie. And I can see you carry her strength with you." She paused, her gaze gentler still. "Never doubt that you belong here, my dear. Not as a guest, not as an outsider, but as a family."
Her words left me stunned, a warmth blooming in my chest that I hadn't expected.
Family.
I know she didn't say it lightly.
For a moment, I wondered if she had already sensed the shift between Tristan and me. But before the thought could settle, her expression softened into something lighter.
"Now, go on, later, come sit with me in the garden. I've missed our little chats."
Her invitation carried the weight of love, not obligation. I wasn't just tolerated here, I was wanted.
As I rose to pour myself some tea, a shadow crossed the doorway.
Tristan's voice, low and sharp, filled the air.
"Mother, what are you doing here with Ellie?"
Marie didn't flinch with the tone. She simply smiled as though she'd been expecting him around.