The Shop Of Dreams

The next few days blurred into something beautifully ordinary. Colossus woke me every morning with coffee in one hand and soft kisses along my shoulder. He’d pull me close, tuck my head under his chin, and whisper, “Good morning, my future wife,” like it was the most natural and precious thing in the world. We’d stay in bed longer than we should, talking about everything and nothing — the color of the shop walls, what flowers we might plant out front, whether our first child would inherit my stubbornness or his quiet strength. One golden morning, he took my hand and led me out to the lot behind the garage. Construction had officially begun. A small crew of prospects and patched members were already framing the foundation under Viper’s supervision. Colossus stood behind me, arms wrapped