Ethan
I wake up before he does, morning light filtering soft through the blinds, Noah still curled against my chest exactly the way he fell asleep, and for a long moment I just lie there taking him in, grateful in a way that feels almost too big for my chest to hold.
We only have three days before I have to fly back, three days that suddenly feel far too short for everything we still need to rebuild, but this morning, at least, feels like solid ground after weeks of uncertain footing.
Noah stirs eventually, blinking awake, and the soft, unguarded smile he gives me when his eyes find mine settles something in my chest that's been unsteady since that first missed call weeks ago.
"Morning," he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep.
"Morning." I press a kiss to his forehead, unhurried. "S
