The years blurred together.
School events, piano recitals, writing competitions. Birthdays and holidays and ordinary days. Lina and Kai built a life—messy, beautiful, full.
They argued sometimes. About parenting, about schedules, about stupid things that didn't matter. But they always made up, always found their way back to each other.
"Our parents never did that," Lina realized one night. "Argued and made up. They just... stayed angry."
"We're different," Kai agreed. "We choose each other every day. Even when it's hard."
"Especially when it's hard."
The children grew.
Hope at twelve was a teenager in training—moody, creative, already writing stories that made Lina's editor curious. Noah at ten was all boy—music, sports, friends, never still.
"Slow down," Lina wanted to tell them. "You're growing too fast."
But they wouldn't listen. Children never do.