Eli was up before the sun, bouncing around the kitchen in his Spider-Man socks, dragging Thunder behind him like a co-pilot. Aria was mid-pour on the pancake batter when he nearly collided with her legs.
"Careful, chef," she warned, setting the bowl down and steadying him with one hand on his shoulder.
"Thunder says pancakes should be shaped like lightning bolts today."
Aria raised an eyebrow. "Thunder's got opinions, huh?"
"Thunder is an artist," Eli said seriously, holding the stuffed dragon up so she could hear it better. "You know how they are."
She snorted, nudging him toward the kitchen table. "You're turning into your dad."
Eli grinned like she'd handed him a trophy. "That's good, right?"
Aria blinked. Her chest tightened just slightly. "Yeah, baby. That's good."
Before she could say more, there was a knock on the door—sharp, familiar.
"Dad!" Eli shouted, already running, Thunder now flapping behind him like a flag caught in the wind.
Aria wiped her hands on a dishtowel and took a long breath before following. The door swung open to reveal Elias standing on the step, holding a grocery bag in one hand and a carton of juice in the other.
"I brought orange juice," he said as he stepped inside, his voice easy. "And blueberries. Figured we could go deluxe today."
"We've already got lightning bolt pancakes on the menu," Aria said, nodding toward the stove. "You're gonna have to up your game."
Elias lifted the bag with a grin. "Chocolate chips."
Eli threw both arms in the air. "Victory!"
They all made their way into the kitchen, the warmth building—not just from the stove or the sunlight creeping across the floor, but from the ease of movement between them. They didn't hover or hesitate. The rhythm came back easily, like it had always been there waiting.
There was no map for this—no guidebook on how to be three people figuring it out again. But it didn't feel like they were faking it. Not today.
"Can I flip it?" Eli asked, dragging a chair over to the stove and climbing up like a mountaineer.
"You remember what I said?" Elias asked, crouching beside him.
"Flip with your wrist. Not with your whole arm."
"And?"
"Don't panic if it lands weird. Just say 'That's modern art.'"
Aria laughed, turning a pancake with practiced ease. "Sounds about right."
They watched as Eli carefully slid the spatula under the pancake, took a deep breath, and flipped.
It landed halfway in the pan, slightly crumpled.
Eli stared at it. "It's abstract!"
"Exactly," Elias said, clapping once. "You're a visionary."
"I'm gonna be a breakfast legend," Eli declared.
"You already are," Aria said, grinning as she plated the pancake. "You and Thunder are redefining cuisine."
Breakfast turned into a joyful chaos of syrup drips, sticky fingers, and debates about whether Thunder should get his song.
Eli voted yes, naturally.
Elias leaned back in his chair. "Alright. But it has to be epic. Like, thunder and battle cries and a guitar solo in the middle."
"Can there be dragons?"
"Thunder is a dragon," Aria reminded him.
Eli shook his head. "No, no, no—backup dragons."
"Ohhh," Elias said, mock-nodding. "Right. Of course. The backup band. Thunder and the Storm Chasers."
Aria choked on her coffee. "Please tell me that's not a real band."
"Not yet," Elias replied. "But give us a week."
She just shook her head, laughing softly. Watching the way Eli leaned into his father's side, the way Elias ruffled his curls like it was second nature—it did something to her chest. Something warm and quiet and also terrifying.
This version of them—light, playful, easy—was dangerous. Because it felt good. And feeling good could make you forget all the cracks.
But maybe, just for today, she could let it feel good.
After breakfast, Eli ran off to the living room with a notebook and a half-eaten pancake. Thunder was now dictating the storyline of their next saga. That left Aria and Elias standing in the kitchen, rinsing dishes with the ease of old muscle memory.
Aria handed him a plate. Their fingers brushed.
She pulled her hand back quickly.
"You okay?" he asked after a pause.
"Yeah." She nodded, setting another cup on the drying rack. "It's just… weird."
Elias waited, didn't push.
"Being around you like this," she continued, glancing at him. "It's nice. And also a little terrifying."
"I get that."
She dried her hands and leaned back against the counter. "I don't want to confuse him."
"Neither do I," Elias said quickly. "But I also don't want to pretend this doesn't mean anything. He deserves good memories. We all do."
Aria nodded slowly. "It's easier when you're here."
He gave a soft smile. "I can be here more."
She looked at him, eyes sharp. "That's what scares me."
He nodded, accepting it without defense.
"I used to think love was enough," she said, her voice quieter now. "Then I learned it's not. It's about showing up. Even when it's uncomfortable. Especially then."
"I know," Elias said.
"And I'm still learning how to trust you again."
"I'm not asking for you to trust me today," he said. "I'm just asking for the chance to earn it again."
She didn't answer. Not in words. But when he reached out, gently, and took her hand—she didn't pull away.
Later that afternoon, Elias gathered his things with a promise to pick Eli up from school on Monday. He ruffled Eli's curls and gave Aria a quiet nod before heading out the door.
The house was suddenly, startlingly quiet.
Aria sank into the couch, flipping through Eli's sketchbook. Thunder was now battling a villain called The Static King. There were fireballs. There was a musical staff drawn into one of the panels labeled: Thunder's Victory Solo.
The last page stopped her.
"Thunder and the Heart That Glowed."
There was a tiny note in Eli's handwriting at the bottom.
This one's about how Thunder finds the light in the dark.
Aria traced the words with her fingertip. The quiet in the house was no longer heavy—it was filled with echoes of laughter, of stories and syrup and music yet to be made.
She closed the book and sat there a long while.
Her heart wasn't steady yet. But it was softer. Not so afraid.
And for now, that was enough.