Olivia
The soft lapping of the water, the wind rustling the leaves, the distant chirps of birds—this place was magic.
Nathan had set up a cozy area near the edge of the little pond by the cabin with blankets and soft cushions. He gently dipped Aurora’s toes into the cool water, the baby’s giggles echoing with delight.
Elliot, on the other hand, wrinkled his nose, clearly unimpressed with the sensation.
“Aurora seems to like it,” I remarked, laughing as Nathan tried to appease Elliot by bouncing him gently in his arms.
“Well, at least one of them does,” Nathan chuckled, wiping away a droplet that had managed to find its way onto Elliot’s cheek.
As evening descended upon us, Nathan took out a vintage gramophone, placing it on a nearby table. Soon, soft melodies fill
