The scent of garlic and butter filled the kitchen as Em stirred the pasta sauce, her heart practically vibrating with excitement. Tomorrow—finally—she'd see Henry. After a week of texts, calls, and stolen moments over FaceTime, they'd be in the same place again. The thought made her giddy, her smile so wide it was starting to hurt her cheeks.

Across from her, Roxy was aggressively chopping vegetables, wielding the knife like a woman who had unresolved beef with the bell peppers.

"Girl, you need to chill before you lose a finger," Em teased, watching as a chunk of tomato went flying off the counter.

"Listen," Roxy said, pointing the knife at her. "I'm trying to provide for this household. Some of us take dinner very seriously."

Em snorted. "Providing? Ma'am, I bought the groceries."

"Details." Roxy waved her off before dumping the veggies into a sizzling pan. "Now, tell me more about this little love nest you and Henry are setting up. You're really moving in with him?"

Em leaned against the counter, grinning. "Yep! He got the cutest place. Renovations will officially be done in two days, so I should be out of your hair at the end of the week, but I still need to finish packing up my books."

Roxy let out a dramatic groan and threw her head back. "Of course. The books. Your one true love."

Em rolled her eyes. "I don't have that many."

Roxy dropped the spatula and gave her a deadpan stare. "Emilia. You have enough books to single-handedly build a fort around your bed. I know this because I have bruised my toe on War and Peace at least three times."

Em bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "You're exaggerating."

"I am suffering," Roxy shot back. "Honestly, at this point, you should just open a library. Charge people rent. Start a business."

Em shook her head, stirring the pasta. "Or hear me out—I could just bring my books with me and live my best life."

"Or" Roxy countered, wiggling her eyebrows, "Henry could come home one day and find that he's been evicted because your books have taken over."

Em laughed, tossing a piece of pasta at her, which Roxy expertly dodged. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm just saying." Roxy gave her a knowing look, then softened. "But you do seem happy, Em. Like, really happy. And I love that for you."

Em's smile faltered for half a second, catching the edge of something unspoken in Roxy's voice. "But?"

Roxy sighed, leaning against the counter. "I just don't want you to get blindsided again. You remember the Chase situation."

Em groaned. "Oh, we're bringing up Jonas now?"

"We must. It is my duty as your best friend," Roxy said solemnly. "Because I will not stand by and watch another man with the emotional range of a teaspoon make you cry into a pint of ice cream at 2 a.m."

Em rolled her eyes. "Henry's different, Rox."

"I know," Roxy admitted. "And I really hope this is it for you. But you know me—I gotta be the annoying, protective friend."

Em smiled, warmth spreading in her chest. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

Roxy grinned. "Damn right."

As they plated their food, Em pulled out her phone and quickly typed out a text to Cayden.

Em: Hey, what time does Henry's flight get in?

Cayden's response came almost immediately.

Cayden: Around 10:30. Why?

Em: Would you mind picking me up? I wanna come with you to get him.

A moment later, her phone buzzed again.

Cayden: Of course. Would you like to come to pick him up?

Em snorted, shaking her head as she typed back.

Em: Yes please, if that's okay.

Cayden's next message made her laugh out loud.

Cayden: I am at your service, Mrs. Kingsley.

Em: I'm not a Kingsley yet, Cayden. Simple Emilia or Em is fine.

Cayden: Noted, Simple Emilia.

Em shook her head, chuckling as she locked her phone. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

___________________________________

The next morning arrived faster than Emilia expected.

She woke up with the kind of excitement that made her stomach flutter. It wasn't nerves, not exactly—just this electric anticipation crackling through her veins. Today. Today she'd see him.

She practically danced through her morning routine, humming a ridiculous song she made up on the spot while getting dressed. By the time Cayden pulled up outside, she was already waiting by the door, bouncing on her heels.

Cayden took one look at her and sighed. "You're way too chipper for this hour."

Emilia grinned, climbing into the passenger seat. "Cayden, my friend, my dearest chauffeur—"

"Stop."

"—my second favorite human who has ever walked this Earth—"

"Emilia."

She beamed at him. "Thank you for driving me."

Cayden shook his head as he pulled away from the curb. "I swear, I feel like I adopted an overgrown golden retriever."

She gasped, feigning offense. "How dare you! I am graceful."

Cayden didn't even look at her, just gestured vaguely at her entire existence. "You're literally vibrating."

Emilia dramatically placed a hand on her chest. "That is the sheer force of love, Cayden."

Cayden sighed. "We're never going to survive this car ride."

"Oh, lighten up." She pulled out her phone and started scrolling. "Now, do you want to hear a good joke?"

"No."

"Perfect. So—"

Cayden groaned, already regretting everything.

"You know, Cayden, I told my suitcase I wouldn't leave without it..." Emilia started, barely able to contain her own glee.

He gave her a side-eye. "Don't."

"...But now it's feeling like emotional baggage."

Cayden deadpanned. "That was terrible."

Emilia grinned, unfazed. "You laughed on the inside. I felt it."

"No, what you felt was my soul physically trying to leave my body to escape your humor."

She winked. "That's still a reaction."

Cayden just shook his head, muttering something about needing hazard pay for this job.

By the time they reached the airport, Emilia was practically buzzing. She adjusted her absurdly oversized sunhat—it was bright yellow with a massive, obnoxious pink ribbon that matched her oversized sunglasses, which were at least two sizes too big.

Cayden squinted at her as she dramatically flipped the brim. "What is that?"

"A statement, Cayden."

"A cry for help, more like."

Emilia ignored him, adjusting the ridiculous octopus-themed sign she had painstakingly crafted. It was stupid. It was corny. It was perfect.

Cayden eyed the sign and sighed. "I swear, if this ruins my reputation—"

"Your reputation is fine," Emilia dismissed. "People love an airport spectacle."

"Henry doesn't."

Emilia paused. Okay. Fair point. Henry was a man who preferred understated, elegant moments. But then again... he also secretly adored her weirdness. And she? Well, she lived to make him smile.

So she lifted the sign proudly over her head.

"I'd wave eight tentacles for you, but lucky for me, you only have two. Welcome home, Henry!"

Cayden looked between her, the sign, and the approaching crowd from the terminal. "I'm pretending I don't know you."

"Too late. You're complicit now."

He groaned.

And then—

There.

Her breath caught as she spotted Henry walking through the arrival gates.

For a second, time hiccupped. The airport buzzed with noise, but everything else faded into a blur. Their eyes locked, and in that instant, nothing else mattered.

Henry's steps faltered just slightly as he took in her hat. Then her sunglasses. Then—oh God, the sign.

A slow, incredulous smile tugged at his lips. A chuckle—low and warm—rumbled from his chest. He shook his head, something soft and utterly fond in his expression.

Cayden, beside her, muttered, "You're lucky he's in love with you."

Emilia barely heard him.

Henry was already moving, closing the distance between them with long, purposeful strides. His heart pounded—whether from exhaustion or anticipation, he wasn't sure. Weeks apart had stretched too long, even with late-night calls and stolen moments over the phone. He had missed her laugh, her ridiculous energy, the way she made even the most mundane things feel like an adventure.

And now she was standing there—beaming, eyes alight, wearing the most absurd sunhat he had ever seen—just waiting for him.

God, he loved her.

The moment he was close enough, his hands framed her face, his touch firm yet impossibly gentle, and all the distance between them disappeared.

His lips crashed into hers, stealing the breath straight from her lungs. It wasn't just a kiss—it was everything. It was home. It was I missed you. It was you're mine.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket as she melted against him, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. He tasted like travel, like exhaustion, like relief. Like Henry.

When they finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against hers, his breathing uneven. His thumb traced the curve of her cheek as if memorizing the feel of her skin.

"Hi," he murmured, voice husky.

Emilia's heart threatened to combust. She whispered back, "Hi."

His mouth twitched upward. "I missed you, wife."

She rolled her eyes, still breathless. "Not your wife yet."

He smirked. "Technicalities."

Before she could argue, Henry suddenly lifted her off the ground with effortless ease. Emilia squeaked in surprise, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Henry!" she laughed. "Put me down!"

"Mm." He pretended to consider it. "No."

Cayden, now fully resigned to his fate, grabbed Henry's suitcase with an exaggerated sigh. "I'll just... take care of this, then?"

Henry ignored him, eyes still locked on Emilia. "Let's go home."

Emilia softened, her arms tightening around him. Home. Yeah. That sounded perfect.

Cayden trailed behind them, muttering, "I swear, I'm just a glorified valet at this point."

Emilia, still in Henry's arms, grinned over her shoulder. "You know you love us."

"Debatable."

Henry chuckled, pressing another kiss to Emilia's temple before murmuring, "You definitely love us."

Cayden groaned. "Let's just go."

And with that, they walked out of the airport, stepping into something new. Something good.

Something that felt like forever.