Jennifer smiled, feeling the familiar rush of affection swell in her chest. She lifted a tray from the kitchen—a steaming cup of herbal tea, a slice of fresh toast with strawberry jam, and a small bowl of blueberries. She set it carefully on the coffee table, the clink of porcelain a gentle punctuation in the quiet.

Jennifer pressed a final, lingering kiss to Eleanor’s hand, feeling the pulse of life under her fingertips. The room fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of the city beyond the window and the rhythmic rise and fall of Eleanor’s breathing.

Eleanor let out a soft sigh, the kind that carried years of gratitude. “And after that?”

As evening painted the sky in shades of amber and violet, Jennifer pulled a soft blanket over Eleanor, tucking the edges snugly. She settled into the armchair opposite the couch, her eyes never leaving the woman she adored.