Chapter 304

Serena's POV

I slipped into home at 10 PM, wincing at the soft click of the door. My shoulders relaxed as I stepped out of my heels, feeling the worm wood floor against my tired feet.

"I made it home as early as possible, but still missed their bedtime," I whispered to myself, setting my purse on the entryway table.

Walter had followed my instructions to the letter: the twins were to be in bed by 9 PM sharp, homework finished or not. Their wellbeing came first.

Two years ago, I had moved us from the Tribeca apartment to this villa after Walter joined our household. The twins needed space to grow, to play. Their happiness had become my obsession.

I made my way to the bathroom, eager to wash away the day's exhaustion. The warm water cascaded over my skin, but couldn't wash away the memories that haunted me. After changing into silk pajamas, I headed downstairs for a glass of water to soothe my throat, parched from too much champagne.

On the kitchen counter, I found two handwritten notes propped against matching thermos bottles. A smile tugged at my lips as I read Milo's familiar scrawl:

"Mom, cold water is bad for your tummy after drinking. I made you honey water in the blue thermos. Also warm milk in the silver one to help you sleep. Please don't take those pills again. Love you. - Milo"

Next to it was a delicate drawing of a woman sleeping peacefully under stars, with Stella's neat handwriting beneath:

"The honey has cinnamon too-it helps with headaches. I put lavender in your milk. Sweet dreams, Mommy. ♥ Stella"

My chest tightened with emotion. These children, barely ten years old, taking care of me when it should be the other way around. For three years, they had been my twin flames, warming my frozen heart with their innocent love.

"What would I have done without you both?" I whispered, running my fingers over their notes.

I took a sip of the honey-cinnamon water, feeling its sweetness coat my throat. The thoughtfulness of these children never ceased to amaze me. Milo, already displaying the protective instincts of his father. Stella, observant and nurturing, noticing details most adults would miss.

With the warm milk thermos in hand, I crept upstairs to check on them. I couldn't help myself.

Milo's room was first. The door was ajar, soft blue night-light casting shadows across his sleeping form. His dark hair fell across his forehead. I leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Sweet dreams, my little protector," I whispered.

Across the hall, Stella's door was decorated with painted butterflies and stars. I pushed it open silently, finding her curled on her side, long lashes fanned against her cheeks. One arm was wrapped around her favorite stuffed rabbit, the other extended as if reaching for something.

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling at how she had arranged her nightstand: a glass of water, a book of poetry, and a framed photo of the four of us at the beach. Always the thoughtful one, my Stella.

"Sleep well, my little dreamer," I whispered, kissing her cheek.

As I returned to my own bedroom, the familiar ache settled in my chest. With each passing day, the twins grew more like Lucas-Milo with his father's stern brow and analytical mind, Stella with his perceptive gaze and hidden warmth. The resemblance was both a comfort and a torture.

Time was supposed to heal all wounds, wasn't it? Then why did my longing for Lucas only deepen with each passing month? Why did I lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment we shared?

I sipped the warm milk, tasting the subtle lavender Stella had added, hoping it would quiet my mind. But as soon as the lights went out, the memories flooded back-Lucas's intense gray eyes, his rare smile that transformed his entire face, the way his voice dropped to a whisper when we were alone.

"Stop it, Serena," I scolded myself, pulling the covers higher. Sleep evaded me until exhaustion finally won, dragging me under just before dawn.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Stella's voice pulled me from a fitful sleep. She stood at my bedside, already dressed in her school uniform, her hair neatly braided and tied with blue ribbons that matched her eyes.

"Did you sleep better with my milk?" she asked, climbing onto the bed beside me. "I read that lavender helps sad people sleep."

I pulled her into a hug, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo. "I did, sweetheart. Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"Stella, Mom needs to rest." Milo appeared in the doorway, his uniform pristine, backpack already slung over one shoulder. "She had a late night."

"It's okay, I'm up now," I said, sitting up and stretching. The morning was my refuge from midnight longings.

"You should have slept in," Milo said, his brow furrowed in concern.

"And miss seeing my two favorite people before school? Never." I swung my legs over the side of the bed, reaching for my robe.

Downstairs, Walter had prepared a breakfast feast: fresh fruit, yogurt, whole grain toast, and smoothies. The twins had already set the table, including my coffee cup-black, one sugar, just as I liked it.

"Mom, will you be home for dinner tonight?" Stella asked, carefully spreading jam on her toast in perfect little circles.

"I'm afraid not, sweetie. I need to fly to Washington for a meeting. I might be gone until tomorrow, possibly the day after."

"Oh." Stella's face fell momentarily before she forced a brave smile. "That's okay. I'll practice my piano pieces so I can play for you when you get back."

Milo was less expressive but no less disappointed. "Will you call before bedtime?"

"Absolutely. Video call, both of you, 8:30 sharp."

"Promise?" they asked in unison, that twin connection making me smile despite my guilt.

"Cross my heart," I said, making the gesture over my chest. "And I'll try my hardest to be back tomorrow night."

"Don't rush and tire yourself," Milo said seriously. "We want you healthy more than we want you home early."

My heart squeezed at his mature concern. "When did you get so wise, hm?"

"Aunt Clara called yesterday," Stella mentioned casually. "She asked if we could visit the Harrington estate this weekend. She says she misses us."

I tensed slightly but kept my expression neutral. "Did she now? And what did you tell her?"

"I said we'd have to ask you first," Milo answered, watching my reaction carefully. "We haven't been there in months, Mom."

"We'll discuss it when I return," I promised. "Perhaps we can arrange something for next weekend."

Stella brightened immediately. "Really? Can we stay overnight? Aunt said the cherry trees are blossoming in the garden."

"We'll see," I said.

After breakfast, I drived them to school, despite their protests that I should rest.