The afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, filling the villa’s sitting room with golden warmth. Brigitte sat across from Elara, shelling peas into a wide ceramic bowl, while Aurora napped in a bassinet beside them.


It was a peaceful scene—ordinary, even—but Elara could feel the weight of a question lingering in the air.


Brigitte glanced up from her work. “You know,” she said gently, “when Michael was young, he used to dream of a big family.”


Elara smiled. “He still does.”


“And you?”


Elara hesitated, then set down her teacup. “I don’t know.”


Brigitte nodded as if she had expected the answer. “You don’t have to. Not now. Not ever, if that’s your truth. But I sense it’s not just uncertainty. It’s fear.”


Elara looked down at her hands. “I’m scared I won’t be enough. That I’ll mess it up. That somehow… I’ll pass down the very thing I’ve been trying to overcome.”


Brigitte reached across the table and placed her hand over Elara’s. “What you’ve already given Aurora—your presence, your honesty, your music—is more than many children receive in a lifetime. And if you choose to have another child, that love will multiply. Not divide.”


Elara felt a tear roll down her cheek. “I don’t want my children to grow up wondering why their mother left.”


“And they won’t,” Brigitte said, her voice warm but steady. “Because you stayed. And every day, you choose to stay. That is your legacy now—not what you came from, but what you’re building.”



---


That night, Elara found herself sitting outside on the villa’s small terrace, Aurora bundled beside her, the stars stretching wide overhead.


Michael joined her, his gaze quiet and thoughtful.


“She asked, didn’t she?” he said, sliding his arm around Elara’s shoulder.


Elara nodded. “She wasn’t pushy. Just… real.”


Michael looked down at their daughter. “So?”


Elara took a long breath. “I’m still scared. But I’m listening to the part of me that wants to hope. That wants to believe I can do this again.”


Michael kissed her temple. “Whatever we decide, we’ll decide together. One child, or more—my heart is full either way.”


She smiled, leaning into him. “Mine too.”



---


And in her journal that night, she wrote:


"Dear Aurora—

Today I talked about the future.

And for once, it didn’t terrify me.

I don’t know what will come next.

But I do know this:

Love is not just something we inherit.

It’s something we choose to give.

And I will never stop choosing you."