He had poured his coffee three minutes ago. The mug sat at his place at the table—chipped at the rim, the same one he had been using for weeks now, though neither of them could have said when it had become his. Elara’s sat beside it, identical, also chipped, also warm. The two of them sat across from each other, the morning routine settling around them like a second skin.

Elara moved to the counter. Bread in the toaster. The click of the lever engaging. She did not look at him—did not need to. His presence in the kitchen was no longer something she registered as unusual. He was simply there, the way the morning was there, the way the coffee was there.

His jacket hung on the back of his chair. His boots sat by the back door, scuffed and worn, placed neatly beside her work boots. Hers were caked with dried mud from yesterday’s paddock work. His were cleaner, but not much. Two pairs of boots that had found their way to the same spot without anyone deciding they should.

The toaster hummed. The element glowed orange through the slots. Elara’s hand rested on the counter beside it, her fingers loose, waiting.

Bryce lifted his mug and drank. Black, strong, the way he had always taken it.

He set the mug down. Ceramic touched timber beneath the low hum of the toaster.

Then a door opened down the hall.

The rhythm changed. Not the sound—the feel of the room, the weight of the air. Saige was awake.

Elara did not turn. Her hand stayed on the counter. But something in her shoulders shifted, a subtle straightening, the body preparing for a conversation it had not chosen.

Bryce looked down into his coffee. His thumb traced the chip in the rim, once, twice.

Saige appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in jeans and a loose sweater, her dark hair unbrushed, her feet bare against the cold floorboards. She had not been awake long. Her eyes were still heavy, her movements slow, and she was halfway to the kettle before she stopped.

She saw him.

Not in the way she saw him most mornings—Bryce at the table, Bryce with coffee, Bryce there before the day had properly begun. She had seen that version of him a hundred times.

Her gaze moved past him. The jacket on the chair. The boots by the door. A clean shirt folded over the back of another chair, waiting to be taken into Elara’s room.

Then she looked at Bryce again.

“Do you live here now?”

The question landed clean and direct, no edge, no accusation. Just the thing she needed to know, spoken plainly.

Bryce lifted his gaze from the mug. His hand stopped moving against the rim.

“Apparently.”

The word sat in the air between them. A fact. A confirmation. A thing that had become true without anyone deciding when.

No one moved.

The toaster popped.

The sudden release of heat and spring made Elara flinch. The bread rose with a clatter. Her hand remained on the counter, but she did not reach for it.

Saige looked from Bryce to Elara.

“Since when?”

Bryce glanced towards Elara, then back at Saige.

“I don’t know.”

Saige frowned.

“When did you last sleep at home?”

The question made him pause.

“About two weeks ago.”

Her expression changed.

“Two weeks?”

“Something like that.”

She looked at Elara. “And neither of you thought that meant anything?”

Elara reached for the toast, pulled the slices from the slots and set them on a plate.

“I think we knew it meant something.”

“You just didn’t mention it.”

“We hadn’t named it.”

Saige stood still for another moment, fitting the answer around the things she had already seen. Bryce there when she came out in the morning. Bryce still there when she went to bed. His clothes in the laundry. His boots beside Elara’s instead of leaving with him.

She filled the kettle and switched it on.

“Were either of you going to tell me?”

Bryce leaned back in his chair. The wood creaked under his weight.

“You’re the third person to know.”

Saige’s brow tightened. “Who were the first two?”

“Us.”

She stared at him.

The kettle began its low rumble.

“That isn’t funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

Elara set the plate on the table between them.

“He didn’t arrive with boxes,” she said. “Nothing was decided. He just stopped going back to the cabin.”

“And neither of you noticed for two weeks?”

“We noticed,” Bryce said.

“You didn’t do anything about it.”

He lifted his mug.

“Apparently I moved in.”

Saige folded her arms.

“What about your things?”

“I don’t have many.”

“Your tools?”

“They’re where I need them.”

“At your place.”

“At the workshop.”

The distinction did not seem to help her.

“And the cabin?”

“Still there.”

“For what?”

Bryce shrugged. “Whatever we need it for.”

Saige looked at Elara again, as though there might be another answer waiting there. Elara had none to give her. Bryce’s clothes occupied part of her drawers. His boots stood beside hers. He slept in her bed. The cabin remained across the boundary, unchanged except for his absence.

The kettle clicked off.

Saige turned to it and poured the water into a mug. She added coffee, stirred once, then stood with both hands around it.

The back door opened.

Vael stepped inside, bringing a breath of cold air with him. He closed the door and paused when he found all three of them silent.

His gaze moved from Saige to Bryce, then to Elara.

“Morning.”

Saige looked at him over the rim of her mug.

“Apparently he lives here now.”

Vael glanced at Bryce.

“Okay.”

Saige lowered the mug.

“You didn’t know?”

“No.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?”

Vael looked back at her.

“Why would it?”

Saige’s mouth opened, then closed.

Vael crossed to the table and took the remaining slice of toast from the plate.

No one stopped him.

Saige looked between them.

“So what happens next?”

Bryce frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You live here now.” She gestured towards his jacket and boots. “What’s next? You’re going to get married?”

Neither of them answered quickly enough.

Saige’s expression changed.

“Do you want us to?” Elara asked.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Bryce added.

“No. What?” Saige looked between them. “That’s not what I meant.”

Bryce shrugged. “Well, you brought it up.”

Elara smiled. “I don’t hate the idea.”

Vael looked towards them. “So what does that mean for us?”

To Saige, it sounded as though he meant the four of them living together. Bryce and Elara knew exactly what he was asking.

“There’d be no reason for anything to change,” Elara said.

Saige stared at them.

“Wait. You’re serious. You’re actually considering this?”

“It’s your idea,” Bryce said.

“But only if you want us to,” Elara added. “We could discuss it.”

Bryce pushed his chair back and stood.

“I’ll make some calls. See what I can arrange.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Vael said, following him towards the door.

Elara collected her mug.

“I suppose I need a dress.”

She left Saige alone in the kitchen.

“What?” Saige called after them. “What’s happening?”

----

Later that morning, Saige found Elara alone.

“Mum. We need to talk.”

Elara looked up. “That sounds serious.”

“Are you really doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Getting married!”

“We’re winding you up, Saige. We haven’t decided anything.”

“But you’ve discussed it?”

“Yes, we have.”

“And?”

Elara hesitated.

“And neither of us hated the idea.”

Saige folded her arms. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one we have.”

“You’re not really doing it next week, are you?”

“Bryce was joking.”

“You said you needed a dress.”

“I was helping.”

Saige stared at her.

Elara’s smile faded.

“We talked about it before this morning. We haven’t made any decisions.”

“Because you don’t want to?”

“Because we weren’t going to decide something like that without talking to you first.”

Saige was quiet for a moment.

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“Because it changes your life too.”

“I won’t live here all my life.”

“It’s still your home.”

Saige looked away.

“Do you want to marry him?”

Elara considered the question.

“I think I might.”

“That sounds like a yes.”

“It sounds like something I’m not ready to answer without thinking about everything that comes with it.”

“Like what?”

“The properties. My name. What happens here. What happens at Bryce’s place. The barn.”

Saige looked back at her.

“So this isn’t just about getting married.”

“No.”

“And you want me to decide?”

“No. I want you to know what we’re considering before we decide anything.”

Saige was quiet for a moment.

“I need to think.”

“So do we.”

“Can we talk about it properly tonight?”

“All of us?”

Elara nodded. “All of us.”