Part 58
The weeks turned into months, and the golden warmth of spring gradually transitioned into the rich, vibrant abundance of mid-summer.
The estate flourished under our care, the orchards bearing heavy branches of sweet peaches and deep red cherries that the children loved.
Ethan had taken over the management of the western fields, proving to be an exceptionally talented leader and a naturally gifted farmer.
He worked alongside the local townsfolk we had hired, earning their deep respect with his humility, hard work, and fair nature.
Sofia spent her days balancing her studies in classical literature with the beautiful, demanding joys of raising a rapidly growing Maya.
As for Alexander and me, we found ourselves experiencing a beautiful, unhurried rhythm that we had never known in our youth.
We woke early to watch the sunrise together from the eastern balcony, sharing quiet conversations over cups of dark, steaming tea.
We spent our afternoons walking through the forest trails that bordered our property, mapping the ancient trees instead of escape routes.
One warm evening, as the family gathered around the large wooden table on the veranda for dinner, Ethan cleared his throat.
He stood up, looking at Sofia with an expression of intense love, before turning his gaze toward Alexander and me with deep respect.
"Sofia and I have been talking," Ethan began, his voice steady but filled with a beautiful, nervous excitement that caught our attention.
"We want to build a small cottage on the western ridge, near the old oak tree that overlooks the entire valley below."
Sofia looked up, her cheeks slightly flushed, holding Maya tightly against her chest as she waited for our reaction to their plan.
May you like
"We love this house, but we want to build something with our own hands, a place that belongs entirely to the future we are creating."
I looked at Alexander, seeing the immediate flash of understanding in his eyes; he recognized the independent spirit that defined our bloodline.
