Chapter 7: The Simple Breakfast
For the first time in five years, the kitchen of the Navarro mansion did not prepare a stiff, formal breakfast for corporate executives.
Instead, the chef was given the morning off, and Diego stood at the industrial gas range in an apron, attempting to flip pancakes while Mia sat on the center island swinging her legs.
""Daddy, it’s shaped like an elephant!"" Mia giggled, pointing at an irregularly shaped pancake sizzling in the butter.
""It’s an architectural masterpiece, Mia,"" Diego replied with a rare, bright laugh, flipping the pancake onto a porcelain plate.
Elena walked into the kitchen, wearing a simple cream knit sweater and linen trousers. Though still frail, color had returned to her cheeks, and her dark eyes were clear and luminous.
Mia gasped with pure joy. ""Mommy! Look! Daddy made elephant cakes!""
Elena smiled, a sound like a gentle silver chime that Diego had not heard since they were students in Europe. She walked over to the island and kissed Mia’s forehead, then turned to Diego.
""You always were terrible at cooking breakfast,"" Elena murmured with soft affection.
""I compensate with structural stability,"" Diego smiled, setting the plate down and stepping closer to her. He poured her a cup of hot chamomile tea with honey, exactly the way she used to drink it on cold mornings in Lisbon.
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As Elena took the cup, her fingers brushed against his. There was no hesitation, no lingering resentment. Love that had survived five years of winter was not easily shaken by the lingering chill.
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