Skye's POV
After Eva and Ethan’s visit, the garden slowly returned to its natural stillness. The laughter faded like the soft settling of petals, and only the sound of the wind rustling through the hedges remained. The tea had gone cold on the table, untouched after all the excitement. The sun had started to dip lower, casting long shadows across the white stone paths.
Damian and I were left alone, just the two of us—and our Dorian.
The garden was more than just a space to me. It was my sanctuary. I was the one who designed its layout, chose each flower bed, and insisted on planting the crescent moon blossoms around the marble fountain. It felt like a piece of me lived in every corner of it. Sometimes I’d wander here when my thoughts grew heavy or when Dorian’s endless energy wore me do
