The mall buzz lingered in their ears as they stepped into a nearby restaurant, the kind with floor-to-ceiling windows that made the afternoon sunlight spill across every polished surface. Rachel tugged Lucas straight to the window seat, announcing with a pride far too large for her small frame, "This one's mine. You two can share."
Bella laughed softly, sliding in beside her daughter. "You really like bossing us around, don't you?"
Rachel nodded, very matter-of-fact. "Because I'm the princess."
Lucas leaned across the table, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Then what does that make me?"
Rachel grinned cheekily. "The king!"
"And Mommy?" Bella asked, curious where this was going.
Rachel tilted her head thoughtfully, tapping her finger against her chin like a little judge in session. Finally, she declared, "The queen… but sometimes a fairy too."
Bella blinked. "A fairy?"
Rachel giggled, nodding so hard her pigtails bounced. "Yes. Because you make wishes come true."
Bella stilled at that, caught off guard by the innocence in Rachel's words. She smoothed her daughter's hair, choosing not to respond. Some truths were too heavy to laugh away.
Lucas chuckled, resting his chin in his hand. "That tracks. Your mummy is magical and dangerous at the same time."
Bella rolled her eyes, though her cheeks burned.
Lunch arrived soon after, the table filling with plates far bigger than Rachel's appetite. Not that it mattered—halfway through, she was already stealing fries and little bites from Lucas's plate. He, of course, encouraged her with exaggerated gasps every time she swiped something.
"Unbelievable," Bella muttered, swatting lightly at both of them. "You're supposed to be setting a good example, not turning lunch into a battlefield."
Lucas grinned, leaning back as Rachel giggled with her mouth full. "She's learning strategy. That's a life skill."
Rachel clapped her hands, clearly proud of herself. "See, Mommy? Daddy says it's okay."
"Daddy also eats ice cream too fast and gets a brain freeze," Bella said dryly. Rachel burst into another fit of giggles, and even Lucas couldn't hide his smirk.
The meal passed with laughter echoing around their table, the kind of easy warmth Bella hadn't realized she missed until it filled the air again.
---
Back at home, Rachel bounced excitedly into the living room, one of the shopping bags clutched in her arms like a prize.
"Mommy, try them again! Please! I'll be the judge this time!"
Bella groaned, already sensing where this was going, but Rachel was unstoppable. She plopped onto the couch, spreading the clothes out around her as though unveiling treasures. Lucas, of course, made himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch, stretching out with a smug expression that screamed enjoyment.
"This isn't happening," Bella muttered under her breath, eyeing the pile of clothes.
"Too late," Lucas said lazily, folding his arms behind his head. "Our princess has decreed it."
So it began.
Rachel clapped and twirled as Bella reluctantly modeled the new clothes, each outfit met with dramatic judgment. The lavender dress earned loud applause, the jeans got a thumbs-up so exaggerated Rachel nearly toppled over, and the cardigan made the little girl hug Bella so tightly her protests softened into a smile.
But when Bella stepped out in the final outfit—a soft cream dress that floated gently over her growing bump—Rachel's hands flew to her mouth.
"Mommy," she whispered, eyes wide, "you look like an angel."
Bella stilled, warmth rising in her chest at the child's sincerity. She glanced instinctively toward Lucas, expecting the usual smirk, the teasing remark. But he wasn't smirking this time. He was watching her quietly, something unreadable but intense flickering in his gaze.
She remembered this expression. It was the same as last night, just before—
Bella swallowed hard, brushing Rachel's hair back to break the moment. "Alright, that's enough shows for one day. Someone needs a nap."
Rachel pouted. "But—"
"No buts. Nap time," Bella said firmly, though her voice was softer than usual.
Lucas rose from the couch, scooping Rachel up effortlessly. She squealed, half protesting, half laughing as he lifted her high. "Come on, princess. You've worn your mommy out."
Rachel giggled, already melting against his shoulder as he carried her toward the hallway. Bella lingered in the living room for a beat, her fingers brushing absently against the fabric of the cream dress, her heartbeat stubbornly out of rhythm.
It was just the long day, she told herself. The teasing. The laughter. That was all. But as Lucas passed by with Rachel in his arms, his hand brushed briefly against hers. Just for a second.
It shouldn't have meant anything. And yet, the warmth lingered long after he was gone.
Rachel was supposed to be napping. "Supposed to" being the key phrase. But because she demanded that her mommy hug her to sleep, Bella went to her room instead of changing her dress.
"…and then I want the pink dress tomorrow, and Daddy eats ice cream too fast, and Mommy, did you see how many shoes that lady had? Can I have that many? Maybe a hundred? Or two hundred—"
"Rachel," Bella murmured, stroking her daughter's hair as they lay together on the bed. "Close your eyes, baby. Just a little nap, that's all."
"But I'm not sleepy!" Rachel declared, her eyelids already drooping with every word.
Lucas had seated himself on the other side of the bed, propped comfortably with his arm resting across his knee. He watched the scene unfold with an amused smile tugging at his lips.
"She's just like you," he teased softly. "Says she's not tired, but clearly ready to drop."
Bella shot him a warning look, though her cheeks betrayed her with a faint flush. Rachel caught the look and giggled, yawning right after. "I'm not like Mommy. Mommy talks too much. I don't."
Lucas raised a brow, his eyes glinting with wicked humor as Bella's mouth fell open. "See?" he whispered, clearly enjoying himself.
"Traitor," Bella muttered under her breath, but she bent to press a kiss against Rachel's forehead anyway. She wrapped her daughter in her arms, humming low and steady, the melody soft enough to coax sleep. Slowly, Rachel's protests dissolved into murmurs. Her tiny fists unclenched, her lashes brushing her cheeks as she finally surrendered to rest.