The Scars We Carry

That night, the family settled in to rest, but Cilla stayed awake, her thoughts racing. Huk escorted Isabella to one of the guest rooms, but Julian stood firm at the door.

"Mom, I know you're worried, but I don't need a wife," Julian said firmly.

Cilla crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "Goodnight, Julian," she said with a tone that held a hint of finality.

Julian sighed, heading to his room, and the house gradually fell silent as everyone drifted to sleep.

Morning came, and Isabella was the first to rise. As the soft light filtered through the windows, she moved quietly through the house, tidying the rooms and heading to the kitchen. By the time the aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, the house was spotless.

The family woke up to the smell of food.

"Mom, did you cook something?" Julian asked as he came downstairs, his voice still groggy.

Cilla shook her head. "No."

Sophie sniffed the air. "Something smells good."

Tuki, still stretching, groaned. "I know this smell is making me hungrier by the second!"

Huk scratched his head as they all made their way to the dining area. They froze at the sight before them. The table was set with a feast, and Isabella stood nearby, smiling.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

Cilla blinked in astonishment. "You did all this?"

Isabella nodded. "Yes, I hope it's alright."

Cilla's expression softened. "Lucy, see that? That's what a good daughter does."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "She's not your daughter, Mom."

"Not yet," Cilla murmured under her breath, but loud enough for Lucy to hear.

Everyone sat down to eat, their earlier surprise replaced by appreciation for the delicious meal. The food was exceptional, and the family chatted lightly as they enjoyed breakfast together.

Julian finished first, pushing his chair back with a satisfied sigh. "Thanks for the food," he said, standing. "I've got to get to work."

He washed his plate, tidied himself up, and was almost out the door when Cilla called out.

"Isabella, why don't you bring Julian some lunch later?" Cilla suggested with a pointed smile.

Julian froze at the door, looking over his shoulder. "Mom, really?"

Cilla shrugged. "You'll need lunch, won't you?"

Lucy smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Wow, Mom. You're not even trying to hide it anymore. You want Isabella to be Julian's wife, don't you?"

Cilla didn't deny it. "A good match doesn't happen every day, Lucy."

Isabella fidgeted, looking uncertain. "I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense," Cilla said, waving her hand dismissively. "It's no trouble at all. I'll even help you pack it."

Julian groaned. "Mom, please."

But Cilla was already moving toward the kitchen, her determination unshaken. Lucy chuckled as Isabella hesitantly followed, unsure how to refuse.

"Poor Julian," Lucy muttered with a grin. "