Riley
The morning light filtered through the half-open balcony doors, painting the room in soft gold. Luca and I had barely left the bed since waking. We’d shared lazy kisses, coffee brought up from the kitchen, and quiet conversation while the sea murmured below us. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was space to breathe — and space to dream out loud.
I was curled against his good side, my fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest, when the words finally spilled out.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” I said softly. “A business idea. For childcare.”
Luca turned his head, giving me his full attention. “Tell me.”
I took a breath and let it come. I told him about the families I’d seen — parents whose jobs pulled them across continents for weeks at a time. Athletes.
