Chapter 18: A Gentle Rhythm
The sun peeked gently through the thatched roof, casting filtered lines across the wooden floor. Morning in the village had its own kind of calm—no rush, no sirens, just the rustling of leaves, distant goat bleats, and the soft cooing of a child.
Little Rene, wrapped in a soft cloth sling across Avrielle's chest, stirred lightly as her mother moved around their small hut. She had started developing a habit of grabbing onto her mother's braid, tugging at it with surprising strength for her size.
"Okay, okay, Rene. Let go of that," Avrielle said with a laugh, gently untangling her hair from the baby's grip. "You've already got my heart. Do you need my hair too?"
The baby gurgled, mouth forming the beginning of a smile, and Avrielle felt her chest swell with love. She leaned down, kissing Rene's forehead softly.
From outside, the muffled sound of hammering drifted in.
Ian had been helping the villagers with some construction since a few days after Rene's birth. He was strong and quick, and the villagers trusted him. Whether it was repairing roofs, building a new feeding shed for the goats, or helping the healer gather herbs, Ian had become one of them.
Avrielle peeked through the small window and found him near the water well, shirtless, sweat beading down his back as he lifted logs with a few other men. He laughed at something the old man beside him said, tossing his hair back.
She smiled to herself.
How odd it was—how normal everything had started to feel. She was still only sixteen, yet with a baby on her hip and a home to tend to, she often felt much older. The haze that had first enveloped them seemed to have melted into routine.
But love had bloomed in the quiet of that routine.
Rene stirred again. Avrielle rocked her gently and whispered, "Let's go see Papa."
**
The sun was high by the time Avrielle made her way to the clearing where Ian worked. A few women waved at her, some offered small bundles of herbs or fresh goat milk, which she gratefully accepted.
When Ian spotted her, his face instantly lit up.
"There's my girls," he said, dropping the wooden beam he was holding and jogging over.
Avrielle laughed as he leaned down to press a kiss on her cheek, then one on Rene's forehead.
"She missed you," Avrielle said. "Or maybe I did."
He wrapped his arm around her waist. "Let's take a break. Come."
They sat beneath a large neem tree, the shade cool and welcoming. Ian reached for Rene, carefully cradling her in his arms.
"She's heavier," he said. "I swear she's grown just since yesterday."
"She eats like a little bear," Avrielle said, brushing Rene's tiny toes. "And refuses to nap unless I hum that lullaby."
Ian chuckled. "She's got your stubbornness."
"I heard that."
He leaned over, brushing his lips against hers. "It's my favorite trait of yours."
Avrielle let herself melt into that kiss. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't hungry. It was gentle, slow, the kind of kiss that made her forget the past, forget the fear, and remember only love.
She pulled back slightly. "How do you feel, Ian?"
He looked down at the baby in his arms. "Content," he said. "Isn't that strange? I should be scared or frustrated or… something. But with you, with her, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
She felt the tears prickle at her eyes again. "You always know what to say."
He pressed his forehead against hers. "Because you make it easy."
They sat that way for a while, watching Rene drift into sleep, her little fist curled near her chin.
**
As the afternoon wore on, Ian returned to help with the villagers while Avrielle took Rene home. By the time he came back, the sky was dark, stars winking through the leaves. He entered the hut quietly, setting down his tools.
Inside, Avrielle had lit a small oil lamp. Rene was asleep in her woven cradle, swaddled and dreaming. Avrielle sat beside her, humming softly.
Ian's heart clenched. He watched from the doorway, silently admiring how motherhood had made her glow in a different way now. Her long hair was unbraided, falling over her shoulder, and her dress hugged the curve of her waist—a waist that had held their daughter not long ago.
She turned slightly, catching his gaze. "Hey," she whispered. "She's finally out."
He crossed the room in three strides and cupped her face in his hands. "You're incredible," he murmured, kissing her deeply.
She smiled against his lips. "I'm exhausted."
"I'll help more tomorrow."
"You already do too much."
They moved together to the sleeping mat, careful not to wake Rene. Ian lay down beside Avrielle, pulling her into his arms.
"I missed this," he said softly. "Us."
She nodded, fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "She needs me so much. Sometimes I feel like I'm not even myself anymore. Just… a mother."
Ian turned her chin gently to meet her eyes. "You're still you. My best friend. My love. The most beautiful person I've ever known."
She blinked. "Say that again."
He smiled. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever known."
She kissed him. Long and deep. They didn't need urgency anymore—this was a quiet kind of passion, full of understanding and shared memories. Their bodies moved slowly, mouths finding familiar places, fingers exploring slowly like a dance.
When they finally laid still, arms and legs tangled under the thin sheet, Ian whispered, "Thank you… for Rene. For you. For choosing me every day."
Avrielle's voice was soft and drowsy. "Always."
Outside, the village lay quiet. A dog barked somewhere far. Crickets sang their lullaby. And in the little hut nestled beneath the trees, two young hearts—forced to grow, to love, to become something new—found peace in each other once again.
Little Rene stirred in her cradle, a quiet whimper escaping her lips. Avrielle sat up quickly, her mother instincts already awake.
Ian followed. "I've got her," he said, scooping the baby into his arms.
Together, they rocked her, their fingers brushing. And as Rene's eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking onto both of them, it was clear she knew one thing—
She was safe.
She was home.
She was loved.