Chapter 34: Becoming Home
The night in the Hamptons always had its own way of wrapping wounds. The sound of the waves rolling gently outside no longer felt like a threat, but a rhythmic lullaby. Inside the villa, the dim honey-yellow lights cast long, warm shadows across the oakwood floor. The scent of sandalwood, so distinctly Julian, now blended with the aroma of freshly brewed chamomile tea.
For the first time since that dark night in Philadelphia, Scarlett did not feel the need to turn on every light in the room. She sat on the long sofa facing the large window, hugging her knees. The knitted cardigan still rested on her shoulders, but her body no longer trembled. The gaze that had once been empty and guarded now began to show a soft glimmer, like a small flame trying to reignite after a storm had passed.
