Elena's Pov
I stood at the kitchen counter, slicing apples for Clara’s lunch while she sang a made-up song about a unicorn who loved peanut butter. The house smelled like cinnamon from the muffins Gabriel baked before work, and sunlight poured through the windows since we replaced all the heavy curtains with light ones a few months ago. Clara danced around my legs with Mr Fluff tucked under her arm, asking if she could have two muffins instead of one. I told her she could have one now and one after school if she finished her sandwich first. She agreed quickly and ran to the table where her backpack sat with a new drawing taped to the front.
Gabriel walked in wearing his work shirt with the sleeves rolled up, kissed the top of my head, and stole a slice of apple. "Morning, wife," he said
