As the day quietly folded into night, Lesley almost hesitated at the gates before driving in.
The house stood just as it always had—vast, composed, quietly imposing—but tonight it felt warmer somehow, alive in a way that tugged at something soft in her chest. She stepped out of the car and smoothed her coat, exhaling as if she could shed the weight of the day along with it.
The moment she crossed the threshold, she was greeted by the familiar scent of butter and herbs drifting through the air, rich and comforting. It wrapped around her like an old memory. Somewhere deeper in the house, voices overlapped in easy laughter—her family, gathered without her until now.
For a second, she simply stood there and listened.
Then she followed the sound.
As she reached the living room, the scene unfolded exactly as she might have imagined: her sister curled comfortably against their mother, arms looped through Miriam's, both of them smiling as they spoke. The sight struck Lesley with a quiet force—something tender, something she hadn't realized she'd been missing.
Leanne noticed her first.
"Oh, there you are, sis." She straightened, her smile widening with genuine delight.
"I thought you wouldn't come, my dear," Miriam added, her tone warm but edged with mock reproach.
Lesley huffed softly, though her lips curved. "Can I ever say no to you two? You always gang up on me." She crossed the room, leaning down to press a kiss to her mother's cheek before pulling Leanne into a brief, tight hug.
"We just missed you, darling," Miriam said, brushing a hand over Lesley's arm. "You've been so busy with the company."
Leanne tilted her head, studying her with playful scrutiny. "Who would've thought running a company would make you this serious in life?"
Lesley rolled her eyes, though there was no bite to it. "Where's Dad?"
"In his study," Leanne replied. "Emergency Zoom meeting."
"You know your father," Miriam added with a fond sigh. "Always attentive to business."
"Yeah," Lesley muttered, glancing toward the hallway. "Almost forgetting he has a daughter who's starving right now."
Miriam laughed lightly. "Come on. Dinner should be ready."
"You two go ahead," Leanne said, already rising. "I'll get Dad."
Miriam nodded and slipped her arm through Lesley's as they walked toward the dining room. The gesture was so natural, so familiar, that Lesley didn't even think about it—until she did, and then she found herself slowing slightly, savoring it.
"How are you, my baby?" Miriam asked softly. "Is everything at the company going well?"
Lesley nodded. "Yeah. Everything's… manageable." It wasn't the full truth, but it was close enough.
Miriam squeezed her arm. "I'm proud of you, honey."
The words landed gently but deeply. Lesley smiled, quieter this time. "Thanks, Mom."
By the time they reached the dining room, the table had already been set. Warm light pooled over polished wood, and dishes were laid out neatly, steam rising in soft curls. Lesley took her seat just as footsteps approached behind them.
"Hi, Dad." She stood again, leaning in to kiss Anthony's cheek.
"There's my favorite daughter," he said, pulling her into a brief, firm hug.
"Ahem." Leanne's voice cut in. "I'm already here, and I'm not in Paris."
Anthony chuckled as he released Lesley and moved to his seat at the head of the table. "You're my favorite daughter too. But you're the fashion model version. Lesley's the corporate one."
Lesley raised a brow, settling back into her chair. "So you're saying Leanne's more beautiful than me, Dad?"
"You are both beautiful," he replied smoothly, reaching for Miriam's hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Just like your mother."
Leanne made a soft, exaggerated sigh. "That's so sweet."
"Ew," Lesley said, though she was smiling. "Get a room, you two."
"You should find a girlfriend," Leanne shot back casually as she began serving herself. "So you won't be 'ew-ing' at our parents."
Lesley only rolled her eyes, reaching for a dish.
"Why don't you go on a date, dear?" Anthony added.
"I don't have time, Dad. I'm busy with the Blue Moon project."
The answer came easily, practiced. But as she lowered her gaze to her plate, another thought slipped in uninvited.
Denisse.
It wasn't just a name—it was a cascade of impressions. Soft skin beneath her fingertips. Lips that lingered just a second longer than necessary. The way Denisse looked at her, steady and searching. The way her voice softened when she said Lesley's name… or how it broke when she whispered it in an entirely different context.
A faint smile tugged at Lesley's lips before she could stop it.
Leanne noticed immediately.
"See?" she said, pointing her fork at Lesley. "I think she's already into someone. She's just hiding it."
"What? No. You're impossible," Lesley said, a little too quickly.
"I think it's her assistant," Leanne continued, undeterred. "The one who was with her when she picked me up from the airport." A small smile tugged at her lips as she gazed at Lesley, eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "I saw the way you two looked at each other. Don't even try to deny it—it wasn't just 'boss and assistant.' There was something there."
Lesley's grip on her spoon tightened, just slightly. Of course Leanne would notice. She always did—small things, fleeting glances, the kind Lesley thought she'd kept carefully contained.
"That's ridiculous," Lesley said, forcing a scoff, though she kept her eyes on her plate.
But the memory rose anyway, unhelpfully vivid—Denisse's gaze lingering a second too long, soft but unwavering, like she was seeing more than she should. And worse, like she didn't mind being seen in return.
"Oh—Denisse?" Anthony leaned back slightly, considering. "She's not bad at all. Beautiful, intelligent. She's daddy-approved."
"Mommy-approved too," Miriam added, her eyes dancing.
"Mom. Dad." Lesley tried to sound exasperated, but the warmth creeping into her face betrayed her.
"See?" Leanne grinned. "She can't hide it."
"You all should stop," Lesley insisted, though her voice softened. "Denisse isn't even here to defend herself."
Miriam reached across the table, her expression gentling. "Whoever you choose to love, we'll accept her. And we'll love her, just like we love you."
The teasing faded into something quieter, more sincere.
Lesley looked down at her plate, blinking once before nodding faintly. "I know."
The conversation drifted after that—lighter, easier. Leanne launched into stories about her shoots in Paris, her hands moving animatedly as she described the lights, the chaos, the glamour. Then came the story of the proposal at the Eiffel Tower, told with a softness that hadn't been there before.
Laughter rose and fell around the table. Plates were passed. Glasses clinked.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, Lesley felt it settle inside her—a quiet warmth, steady and undeniable. Not the sharp thrill of ambition or the rush of control she chased in the boardroom, but something deeper.
A kind of peace no achievement had ever given her.