Chapter 4: The Unfamiliar Warmth**
The cottage smelled of cedarwood and sea salt. Julian carried little Mia up the stairs and tucked her into a soft guest bed with a thick wool blanket. The little girl gave a faint sigh, hugging the pillow like a lifeline.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Julian rolled up his tailored shirt sleeves and rummaged through the pantry. He found pasta, tomato sauce, and fresh bread. As the aroma of garlic and melted butter filled the room, Liam stood silently by the doorway, observing Julian’s every move like a wary stray dog.
"Come sit down, buddy," Julian said, placing a steaming plate on the wooden kitchen island.
Liam hesitated, then climbed onto the stool. He picked up the fork, but paused, glancing at Julian. "Mom always ate after us to make sure there was enough."
Julian felt a lump in his throat. He sat beside the boy, pouring two glasses of fresh milk. "There will always be enough now. I promise. Eat as much as you want."
The boy ate with ravenous speed, tears silently tracking down his dusty cheeks. Julian didn't bombard him with questions; he simply sat beside him, refilling his plate and wiping the sauce from the counter.
When Liam finished, he carefully stacked his plate and fork, a habit born from years of helping his sick mother.
"She loved you," Liam said suddenly, looking at the ocean visible through the panoramic window. "She kept a picture of you behind the clock in our kitchen. Whenever the pain got really bad, she’d look at it and tell us stories about how you used to laugh."
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Julian covered his face with his hands, letting the silent sobs shake his shoulders. All those years, he had lived in bitter isolation, believing love was a transaction. In reality, love had been waiting for him in a tiny, impoverished apartment across the country, keeping his memory alive.
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