Maya looked at the kitchen—the flour on the counter from the pasta she’d made from scratch, the jazz playing softly from the speakers—and smiled. It was a complete departure from the woman who usually ordered takeout and fell asleep over her laptop.

For years, Maya had been one thing: the high-powered executive who didn't have time for "domesticity." Her life was a series of spreadsheets, board meetings, and cold espresso. But then there was Leo.

Leo didn't care about the promotion or the power suit. He was the person who stayed up with her when the stress became a physical weight, the one who knew exactly how she took her tea even when she forgot to ask.

The clock on the bedside table ticked toward midnight, but Maya wasn’t sleeping. Instead, she was in the kitchen, humming a familiar melody while she carefully plated a late-night dinner.