Three Years Later “Mommy, are we there yet?” A small hand tugged at mine, warm and impatient. I looked down to find my son, Leo, staring up at me with those impossibly familiar gray eyes. His face was a perfect replica of his—sharp jawline, dark waves of hair curling slightly at his temples, and thick lashes framing his wide gaze. Beside him, my daughter, Alina, swung her legs, her golden-brown curls bouncing as she huffed in exasperation. “We’ve been in this car forever!” she complained. I smiled, squeezing both of their hands. “Just a little longer, babies. We’re almost home.” “Home?” Alina scrunched her tiny nose. “But we just left home.” “That was our old home, sweetheart,” I said softly. “Now, we have a new one.” She pursed her lips, considering this. Then, after a moment, she grinned. “I hope it has a big bathtub. I like bubble baths.” Leo, ever the quiet one, looked up thoughtfully. “Will there be lots of windows?” Something about the way he asked that made my
Last Updated : 2025-04-04 Read more