We're going out with Daddy

The house was quieter now.

Lucas had left for his meeting, but Bella still felt oddly light on her feet.

It had been a good day.

For the first time in days, she hadn't walked up alone and pick up Rachel . Lucas had been there—really been there. From the gentle touch in the kitchen to the unexpected ice cream promise at school pickup, he'd shown her something she hadn't dared hope for: presence.

And now, as golden afternoon light spilled into the living room, Rachel was curled up next to her on the sofa, animatedly talking…to her belly.

Bella smiled, her hand resting instinctively on the small but unmistakable curve beneath her dress.

"Do you think the baby can hear me now, Mommy?" Rachel asked seriously, pressing her cheek against her stomach.

"They say babies can start to hear sounds around this time," Bella said softly. "So maybe."

Rachel gasped. "Then I have to tell them everything!"

Bella laughed gently. "Everything might take a while."

Rachel scrunched up her nose and began anyway.

"Hi, baby," she whispered dramatically, using the same soft tone she used for her stuffed animals. "It's me, your big sister. I'm the boss when Mommy's tired, okay? But you still have to listen to her."

Bella bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"You'll like it here. Mommy is really nice. And she makes the best toast. And Daddy is funny sometimes, and also kinda serious. But he buys ice-creams, and he lets me eat three cookies if I ask really nice."

Bella blinked, her chest tightening at the word Daddy.

Rachel didn't even hesitate now. To her, it was simple. Lucas was "Dada." And that was that.

"Also," Rachel continued, "I don't like carrots. If you do, that's okay. But if you don't, we'll hide them in the napkin."

Bella burst out laughing, leaning her head back against the sofa.

Rachel turned to look up at her, eyes wide and proud. "Do you think the baby likes me already?"

"I think the baby already loves you," Bella said honestly.

Rachel smiled so wide it nearly swallowed her cheeks. She leaned in and kissed Bella's belly with a loud, dramatic muah.

"Don't worry, baby," she whispered again. "You're safe here."

Bella's breath caught.

For a moment, everything in the world felt still.

She gently ran her fingers through Rachel's hair, blinking fast. "You're going to be the best big sister," she murmured.

"I know," Rachel said with a content sigh, curling into her side. "And maybe Daddy will come back soon so we can go to dinner and show the baby where to find the big ice creams."

Bella smiled, pressing her hand to her belly again.

Somehow, even with the chaos of the world outside, this little bubble of peace was enough to make her hope—really hope—that everything would be okay.

-----

The front door clicked shut behind him with a muted thud.

Lucas stepped inside quietly, setting his keys down and taking off his black jacket.

The house smelled like soft shampoo, fabric softener, and just a hint of something floral—Bella, no doubt.

From the living room, he heard laughter.

A light, tinkling giggle. Rachel. Followed by Bella's gentle voice.

He moved closer, stopping just before the archway.

And what he saw made something twist in his chest—soft and sharp all at once.

Rachel stood on the couch, her tiny frame slightly wobbly but proud, her little hands gripping Bella's shoulders for balance. Bella, standing in front of the couch with a hairbrush in one hand and a few bobby pins in the other, was carefully twisting the last strands of Rachel's hair into an adorable crown braid.

Rachel's hair was still slightly damp at the ends, and she was already dressed in her favorite outfit—one of those twirly, flower-printed dresses she'd insisted on wearing "because we're going out with Daddy."

Bella, on the other hand, was still in her soft cotton homewear—an oversized peach-toned t-shirt that skimmed her thighs and a pair of loose lounge shorts. Her hair was pulled into a lazy clip, a few strands falling into her face as she worked.

She hadn't even noticed him yet.

Neither of them had.

Lucas leaned one shoulder against the doorway, allowing himself the luxury of watching for a moment.

It wasn't something grand. It wasn't candlelight or declarations.

It was just Bella, barefoot and focused, gently murmuring encouragements while Rachel fidgeted excitedly.

And yet—it hit harder than anything he'd seen in years.

Rachel giggled again. "Mommy, is it done? Is it princess-y enough?"

"Very princess-y," Bella said with a smile, tucking in the final pin. "You're going to outshine every ice cream cone in the place."

Rachel beamed. "Should I do a twirl now?"

"Only if you promise not to fall off the couch," Bella warned, holding her steady.

Lucas cleared his throat. "Should I rate the twirl?"

Both girls jumped.

Rachel squealed. "Dada!"

Bella spun around, cheeks blooming pink. "Lucas! You're back?"

"I said I'd be home by evening," he said lightly, walking into the room. "And thank god I didn't miss the royal braid ceremony."

Rachel immediately launched herself into his arms, nearly sending his jacket flying. He caught her easily, lifting her with a low chuckle.

"You look like a sunflower princess," he said, kissing her temple. "Who made you this fancy?"

"Mommy did!" Rachel beamed. "And she said I can eat a double scoop if I don't spill it!"

Lucas looked at Bella over Rachel's shoulder—her flushed face, the way she quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

He let his gaze travel deliberately down to her oversized t-shirt and bare legs, then back up with an amused lift of his brow.

"And what about Mommy?" he asked smoothly. "Is she going in royal homewear too?"

Bella crossed her arms. "I was getting there."

Lucas gave a half-smile. "No complaints. Just curious if I'm underdressed next to both of you."

Rachel giggled. "Mommy looks pretty even in jammies."

He didn't say it, but Lucas agreed. Fiercely.

There was something about the way she looked now—unguarded, soft, and slightly flustered—that tugged at him more than any designer dress ever could.

Bella rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. "Give me five minutes and I'll be ready."

"Take your time," he said easily, shifting Rachel in his arms. "We're in no rush."

But as she walked past him to head to the bedroom, his eyes lingered—on her bare legs, the curve of her smile, the warmth she left in the room.

And for the second time that day, Lucas wondered how much longer he could go on pretending this wasn't home.