Selene's POV
I never imagined this day would come so soon.
The patio was softly lit with golden fairy lights, the evening breeze scented with lavender from the small garden. A long wooden table stood in the center, set with carefully chosen cutlery, glasses sparkling under the sky. My heart thudded in nervous excitement as I watched Antonio talking to my dad—my very stoic, very quiet father—over grilled vegetables.
"Don't burn it," I whispered as I slid beside Antonio, nudging him gently.
He chuckled. "I'm trying to impress your dad, not serve him charcoal."
From across the table, Mira and Amara—his sisters—were deep in conversation with my mom, who kept offering them snacks and stories of my childhood with far more detail than I'd like. Ayra, always the social glue, floated between everyone with ease, making sure no one felt left out.
It was surreal.
My dad, usually reserved, nodded thoughtfully as Antonio spoke. "You've been moving city to city, huh?"
"Yes, sir. Because of my father's business," Antonio replied with calm sincerity. "But this time… I want roots. I want to stay."
My father's brows lifted slightly, almost imperceptibly. "Good. You'll need roots if you plan to… stay close to my daughter."
Antonio's hand brushed mine under the table.
Mira, ever the observant one, leaned toward Amara and whispered something before glancing at me with a soft smile. I saw it then—the silent approval. Not just for me, but for us. For what Antonio and I had been trying to build.
Antonio's mom, gentle and composed, handed my mom a warm herbal drink. "You know," she said with a chuckle, "I treated Selene once in my clinic. She reminded me of a firefly. Glowing through pain."
My mom's eyes softened. "That sounds like her. Quietly strong."
The table grew quiet as the moment soaked in. All the stories, the history, the pieces of our lives that had once seemed scattered… were now gently converging.
Later, as the sky turned indigo and stars blinked awake, Antonio's dad stood and raised his glass.
"To love that finds a way," he said. "Even through cities, silence, and stubborn hearts."
Glasses clinked. Laughter bloomed. Somewhere in that evening, I looked around at all the faces—his and mine—and realized: this wasn't just a meeting.
It was a beginning.
The house had quieted into soft hums—the ticking clock, the faint rustle of trees outside, and distant laughter from Ayra and Antonio's sisters playing cards in the garden. I sat curled in the corner of the living room, a knitted shawl draped over my shoulders, still feeling the warmth of the dinner we shared… and the conversations that followed.
They'd all been talking in the next room—my parents, Antonio's mom and dad, and Aunt Melinda, or as I once called her in childhood, Aunt Mel. I'd lingered by the hallway archway, unseen, listening. My heart had thudded with every word. I never thought I'd hear my dad speak about Antonio with such quiet approval. Or my mom, holding Devina's hand, like she'd known her all her life.
And Aunt Mel… her voice cracked with vulnerability I'd never heard from her before.
"I made mistakes with my daughter. Left things unsaid," she admitted. "That silence created distance. And I regret it every day."
That stayed with me.
I rose, stepping softly across the wooden floor. Aunt Mel was still seated by the fireplace, alone now, her gaze lost in the glowing embers.
"Aunt Mel?" I said softly.
She turned, startled at first, then smiled gently. "Selene. Or should I say… Atasha now?"
I laughed softly. "You can call me whichever name makes you feel like home."
She patted the cushion beside her. "Come here."
Her shoulders fell slightly, the strength she always wore dimming into something real. "I thought I was protecting her, Ayra. From family drama. From my own shame. But I see now—distance doesn't protect anyone. Instead it brings happiness."
I rested my head on her shoulder.
Suddenly, soft footsteps approached. Antonio stood at the door, hands in his pockets, eyes catching mine like magnets.
Aunt Mel smiled knowingly and rose. "I'll give you two a moment."
She slipped out, leaving behind her perfume.
Antonio walked over and sat beside me, pulling my legs over his lap like he always did when he wanted me closer. "You heard them?" he asked.
"All of it," I whispered. "Even what your mom said about the firefly."
He chuckled. "She called it before I even knew your name. She said you'd bring light into places I didn't even realize were dark."
"And you?" I looked at him. "Do you still see me that way?"
Antonio leaned in, brushing his lips on my forehead. "You've always been my light, Selene. And now… you're part of the family that feels like home."
I wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed in the comfort that only he gave.
And there, surrounded by echoes of love and second chances, I let the night settle into my heart—soft, slow, and healing.