Thursday afternoon felt like waiting for Christmas morning and a root canal simultaneously. Sophia had cleaned the house twice, helped the twins make "Welcome Home Daddy" signs, and changed her outfit three times before settling on jeans and a soft blue sweater that brought out her eyes.
Not that she was trying to look good for Alexander's return.
Except she absolutely was.
"When will Daddy be here?" Emma asked for the fourteenth time, bouncing on the living room couch with barely contained energy.
"His plane lands at four, then he has to get through customs and traffic," Sophia explained patiently. "Probably around six."
"That's forever!" Emma groaned dramatically.
"It's forty-seven minutes," Ethan corrected, checking the grandfather clock with the serious precision of someone who'd been counting down the hours.
Sophia understood their impatience. She'd been watching the clock herself, her stomach tight with anticipation and nerves. What would Alexander say when he saw her? Would he regret the honesty of their late-night phone conversations? Would he retreat back behind his professional walls?
At 6:17 PM, the sound of a key in the front door made all three of them freeze.
"DADDY!" Emma shrieked, launching herself off the couch and racing toward the foyer.
Alexander appeared in the doorway looking rumpled from travel but more relaxed than Sophia had seen him in weeks. He dropped his suitcase just in time to catch Emma as she threw herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist like a koala.
"I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!" Emma chanted, covering his face with kisses.
Ethan joined the reunion more quietly but no less enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around Alexander's legs while his father still held Emma.
"I missed you both too," Alexander said, his voice thick with emotion. "So much more than I expected."
Over the twins' heads, Alexander's gray eyes found Sophia standing in the living room doorway. The look that passed between them was loaded with unspoken words, acknowledgment of everything they'd shared during their nightly phone calls.
"Welcome home," Sophia said softly.
"Thank you," Alexander replied, and the simple words carried more weight than a greeting should.
The next hour was chaos as the twins competed for their father's attention, showing him everything they'd done while he was gone. Emma dragged him upstairs to see how she'd reorganized her bookshelf, while Ethan insisted on demonstrating his improved video game skills.
Sophia busied herself in the kitchen, preparing Alexander's favorite dinner as a welcome home gesture. She'd learned his preferences over the past month, he liked his steak medium-rare, preferred roasted vegetables to salad, and had a weakness for the chocolate chip cookies she made from scratch.
"Something smells incredible," Alexander's voice came from behind her.
Sophia turned to find him leaning against the kitchen doorway, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. The domestic sight of him, rumpled from travel and twin hugs, made her heart skip.
"Welcome home dinner," she said, trying to keep her voice casual. "I thought you might be tired of airplane food."
"I'm tired of a lot of things," Alexander said, stepping into the kitchen. "But not this. Not coming home to..." He paused, seeming to catch himself before finishing the thought.
"To what?" Sophia asked quietly.
Alexander's eyes met hers, and for a moment the air between them crackled with tension. "To this. To warmth and the smell of real food cooking and children's laughter echoing through the house."
It wasn't what he'd started to say, and they both knew it.
"The twins missed you," Sophia said, turning back to check the roasting vegetables to hide the flush creeping up her neck.
"Just the twins?" The question was soft, almost hesitant.
Sophia's hands stilled on the oven door. "No. Not just the twins."
The admission hung between them, heavy with implication.
"Sophia..." Alexander's voice was closer now, as if he'd moved toward her.
"The twins are probably wondering where you are," she said quickly, not trusting herself to turn around. "They've been so excited all day."
She heard Alexander exhale slowly, a sound that might have been disappointment or relief.
"You're right," he said. "I should go spend time with them."
But he didn't move immediately. Sophia could feel his presence behind her, could imagine the internal war he was fighting. Finally, his footsteps retreated toward the living room.
Dinner was a celebration in the truest sense. Alexander was more present and engaged than Sophia had ever seen him, asking detailed questions about the twins' week and actually listening to their answers. Emma chattered about her loose tooth, Ethan shared his latest dinosaur facts, and Alexander absorbed every word like he was storing up memories.
"Daddy, you seem different," Emma observed as they shared chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
"Different how?"
"Happier. Like when you used to tickle us before Mommy went to heaven."
Alexander's smile faltered for just a moment, but then his eyes found Sophia's across the table and some of his tension eased.
"Maybe I'm remembering some things I forgot," he said carefully.
"What kind of things?" Ethan asked with six-year-old curiosity.
Alexander's gaze lingered on Sophia as he answered. "Important things. Like how good it feels to come home to people who matter to you."
Later, after the twins were in bed and the kitchen was clean, Sophia found Alexander in his office. But instead of working, he was just sitting behind his desk, staring out the window at the city lights.
"Long day?" she asked gently.
Alexander looked up at her, and something in his expression made her breath catch. There was a hunger there, carefully controlled but unmistakable.
"The longest," he said quietly. "And the best I've had in a very long time."
"The twins were so happy to have you back."
"Were they the only ones?"
The question hung between them like a challenge. Sophia stepped into the office, her heart pounding.
"No," she said simply. "They weren't."
Alexander stood slowly, his movements deliberate. "Sophia, I need you to know that these past two weeks..."
"Alexander, don't." Sophia held up a hand. "Don't say something you might regret when the morning comes."
"What if I won't regret it?"
"What if you will?"
They stared at each other across the office, the tension so thick it was almost visible. Alexander's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, and Sophia could see the war playing out across his features.
"This is dangerous territory," he said finally.
"I know."
"You work for me. You live in my house. You take care of my children."
"I know that too."
"If we cross this line, there's no going back."
Sophia took a step closer, her pulse racing. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"
Alexander's jaw clenched. "Both, probably."
"And is it working?"
For a long moment, they stood frozen, balanced on the knife's edge of possibility. Then Alexander exhaled sharply and stepped back.
"You should go to bed," he said, his voice rough. "It's late."
Sophia felt the rejection like a physical blow, even though she knew he was being sensible. "Of course. Goodnight, Alexander."
"Sophia, wait."
She paused at the doorway, not trusting herself to turn around.
"Thank you. For taking care of them while I was gone. For making this feel like home again."
"It's my job," she said quietly.
"No," Alexander said, and his voice held a note of certainty that made her shiver. "It stopped being just a job a long time ago."
Sophia closed her eyes, absorbing the impact of his words. When she finally looked back at him, he was watching her with an intensity that made her knees weak.
"Goodnight, Alexander," she whispered.
"Goodnight, Sophia."
As she climbed the stairs to her room, Sophia could feel Alexander's eyes on her until she disappeared from view. In her bedroom, she leaned against the closed door, her heart still racing from their charged encounter.
Whatever was happening between them, it was building to something inevitable. The question wasn't if they would cross that line, it was when, and whether they'd both survive the consequences.