Elena’s POV

The key turned in the front door at 7:14.

I stood near the bottom of the stairs with my hand pressed flat against my stomach. My heart would not slow down. It had been like this all afternoon. I’d checked the candles twice. Checked the time three times. Checked the bathroom door once more even though I already knew they were in there and waiting.

Two weeks of planning. Texts sent in the middle of the workday. Money moved. Rules written down and then rewritten. No dinner on the table. No playlist. No safe little anniversary routine. Just the low candlelight on the ground floor and the perfume...