Despite her earlier warning, Franz didn’t stop.

Arianne had told him to rest. She’d meant it. The twins would be up soon, and the day would begin, and he’d been traveling for weeks. But his hands had kept moving, and his mouth had found her shoulder, her neck, the curve of her ear, and she hadn’t stopped him. She didn’t want to stop him. She’d missed this too.

She lay beneath him now, her body still humming from the second time he’d made her come. The morning light was brighter through the sheer curtains, the room warmer. His weight was on his elbows above her, his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathing hard.

"You didn’t rest," she said.

"I rested enough."

"That wasn’t resting."

"That was a different kind of rest."

She didn’t dignify that with a response. He grinned and kissed her forehead. Rolled off her. Lay beside her with his arm still draped across her waist.

She stared at the ceiling and thought about how much had changed.

Their first time had been careful. Tentative. He’d treated her like something fragile, something he was afraid of breaking. His hands had shaken slightly when he touched her. He’d asked permission for everything — is this okay, can I, do you want — in a voice that was barely above a whisper. She’d been the one to guide him then, to show him what she wanted, to tell him he didn’t need to be so careful.

Now he didn’t ask. Now he knew. He knew the spot behind her ear that made her breath catch. He knew the pace she needed, the pressure, the exact moment to slow down or speed up. He knew when to be gentle and when to be rough, and he moved between the two with a confidence that still surprised her.

The shy, silent boy she’d known for years — the one who’d watched her across rooms and never spoken— had grown into a man who pinned her to her own desk and made her forget her own name. Who whispered filthy things in her ear while she tried to stay quiet. Who made her come twice before breakfast and looked at her afterward like he was already planning the third time.

She wondered if it was because of the limited time. He was home now, but he’d leave again. The filming schedule would call him back. These days together were borrowed, and he was spending them the way he spent everything — thoroughly, completely, without holding back.

She let him. She’d always let him.

The shower was hot. Steam filled the bathroom, fogging the mirror. Arianne stood under the spray with her eyes closed, letting the water run down her back.

Franz stepped in behind her.

This had become normal. Sharing a shower. There was no shyness anymore, no careful averting of eyes, no unspoken negotiation of space. She knew his body. He knew hers. They moved around each other with the ease of long practice — him reaching past her for the soap, her stepping aside to let him rinse.

His hands found her waist. His lips found her shoulder.

"The twins are waiting," she said without opening her eyes.

"They can wait a little longer."

"They’ve been waiting for weeks."

"Exactly. A few more minutes won’t hurt."

His hand slid lower. She caught his wrist.

"No."

He sighed against her skin. It was a put-upon sigh, theatrical. "You’re cruel."

"You’ve said that."

"I meant it both times."

She turned to face him. The water streamed between them. His hair was plastered to his forehead, longer now than when he’d left. His eyes were warm and hungry and entirely unrepentant.

"You’re insatiable," she said.

"Only for you."

"That’s not the compliment you think it is."

"It’s exactly the compliment I think it is."

He grinned at her.

She pushed past him and stepped out of the shower. Handed him a towel without looking at him. Behind her, she heard him laugh quietly — a low, satisfied sound.

She was going to have to buy that doghouse.

They came downstairs together.

Lily was already at the kitchen table, her cereal bowl in front of her, Petal propped against the salt shaker. Leo was beside her, the whale in his lap, his tablet on the table. They both looked up when Franz and Arianne entered.

Franz sat in the chair next to Lily. She leaned into him immediately, the way she’d done since he walked through the door last night — as if she needed to confirm he was still there, still solid, still real.

Then she paused. Sniffed.

"You smell like Aunt Aria."

Arianne, at the counter pouring coffee, didn’t turn around.

Franz didn’t hide his grin. "I know. I like it."

Lily considered this information. Her brow furrowed slightly, the way it did when she was processing something that didn’t quite fit into her existing categories. Then she shrugged.

"Okay." 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

She returned to her cereal. The matter was settled.

Leo reached for his tablet. Typed with one hand, the other still on the whale.

STAYING?

Franz looked at the screen. At Leo’s steady gaze. The same question he’d asked last night. The same demand disguised as a question.

"I’m not leaving today," Franz said. "I’ll spend the whole day with you. All of us. Aunt Aria too. We’ll do whatever you want."

Leo stared at him for a moment longer. Then he nodded. Once. Small.

GOOD, he typed.

Arianne set a cup of coffee in front of Franz. Black. No sugar. She’d learned how he took it months ago. He looked up at her. His fingers brushed hers as she withdrew her hand — brief, light, barely a touch.

She sat across from him. The twins filled the silence with breakfast chatter.

The morning unfolded slowly.

Franz played with the twins in the sitting room. Lily told him everything he’d missed — the calendar with its crossed-off days, the new hamster in Miss Chen’s classroom, Kyle’s new backpack with the dinosaur patches. She narrated the past weeks in exhaustive detail, and Franz listened to every word, asking questions at the right moments, laughing when she wanted him to laugh.

Leo sat beside him, quiet as always, the whale in his lap. He didn’t type much. But he stayed close.

"Leo’s been practicing more," Lily said. "His words. He does it at night. In the bathroom mirror. And sometimes in bed. I hear him through the door."

Leo’s shoulders tensed slightly. He didn’t look up.

Franz turned to him. His voice was gentle.

"You don’t have to force yourself," he said. "You don’t have to speak before you’re ready. But if you want help — if you need help — you tell me. Or Aunt Aria. We’ll help you. No pressure. Just when you’re ready."

Leo stared at him. His dark eyes were unreadable. Then he nodded. Once. Small. The same nod he’d given at breakfast.

The tension in his shoulders eased. The whale stayed in his lap.

Arianne noticed things.

She noticed that when she stood to get more coffee, Franz appeared beside her at the counter. His hand found the small of her back — light, brief, barely there. Then gone.

She noticed that when she moved to the sitting room to check her phone, he followed a few minutes later. Sat beside her on the couch. His knee pressed against hers. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

She noticed that when she bent to pick up a toy the twins had left in the hallway, he was suddenly there, reaching past her for something on the shelf. His fingers brushed her arm. His shoulder touched hers.

He wasn’t obvious about it. Anyone else might not have noticed at all. But she noticed. She’d been noticing him for years.

He’d been gone for weeks. He was leaving again soon. He was storing up touch the way he stored up everything before an absence.

She let him. She’d always let him.

By afternoon, the sitting room had been transformed.

Blankets draped over chairs. Pillows arranged inside. A fortress of fabric and cushions had risen in the center of the room, its entrance a gap between two armchairs. Lily had directed the construction. Leo had been the supplier, ferrying pillows from the couch. Franz had been the labor — lifting blankets, securing corners, crawling inside to adjust the interior.

Now he was still in there. Somehow, despite his height, he’d folded himself into the small space. A pillow was balanced on his head like a hat. The twins were arranging their toys around him — Petal, the whale, the Lion, a small rabbit, a bear in a dress.

"Petal goes here," Lily said, placing the purple dinosaur near the entrance. "She’s the guard. She protects the fort."

"What about the Lion?" Franz asked.

"He goes next to Leo. He’s the king."

"And the whale?"

"The whale is the advisor. He tells the king what to do."

Franz nodded solemnly. "That’s a very important job."

Leo typed something on his tablet and held it up inside the fort. Whatever it said made Franz laugh — a real laugh, warm and surprised, the kind of laugh Arianne had heard more in the past day than in the entire year before.

Lily poked her head out of the entrance. Her hair was mussed, a blanket draped over her shoulders like a cape.

"Aunt Aria! Come inside! There’s room!"

Arianne looked at the fort. At the small opening between the armchairs. At Franz’s long legs folded awkwardly inside. At the chaos of toys and pillows and children.

"Your Uncle Franz and I are too tall to fit inside."

"Uncle Franz fit."

"Uncle Franz is flexible."

From inside the fort, Franz’s voice came, warm and amused: "It’s true. I’m very flexible."

Lily giggled. Leo’s tablet dinged again. Another laugh from Franz.

Arianne stayed on the couch, watching. The blanket fort. The toys arranged in their careful order. Her husband folded inside with the children, a pillow on his head, his laughter spilling out into the room.

He’d been home for less than a day. He’d leave again soon. But for now, he was here. They were all here. The fort stood. The twins were happy.

She leaned back against the couch. Let the sounds of the fort wash over her.

"Don’t knock over the advisor," Lily was saying. "He’s very important."

"I would never," Franz said.

"You already did. His tail is crooked."

"I’m fixing it."

"That’s not fixed. That’s more crooked."

"I’m doing my best."

Arianne closed her eyes. Smiled. Small. Private. No one saw.