The morning sun poured through the farmhouse curtains, casting a golden glow across the wooden beams above. You stretched beneath the covers, catching sight of the mirror above the bed — reflecting you and Matteo tangled together, his arm still wrapped snugly around your waist.

He stirred when you moved, pressing a sleepy kiss into your hair. Matteo (raspy): “Mmm… buongiorno, bella.”

You smiled, rolling to face him. “Good morning, fiancé.”

His grin spread slow and proud, dimples showing as he kissed your forehead. His hand instinctively slid to your little bump. Matteo: “And buongiorno to our bambino.”

Before you could respond, Eliora’s little voice carried down the hallway. Eliora: “Mama! Papa! Pancakes!”

You both burst into laughter. Matteo groaned playfully, burying his face in your neck. Matteo (muffled): “So bossy, that one.”

He finally rolled out of bed, tugging on sweatpants. You leaned on an elbow, teasing, You: “You know… if we had that ranch, you’d be out there already. Shirtless, sweaty, feeding the horses.”

Matteo shot you a mock glare over his shoulder, but his smirk gave him away. Matteo: “Careful, bella. I’ll buy you the ranch tomorrow if you keep saying things like that.”

Down in the kitchen, Eliora was already dragging a chair to the counter, determined to “help.” You joined them, watching as Matteo scooped her up onto his hip while whisking batter one-handed like a pro.

Eliora (serious, to Matteo): “Papa, I stir!” Matteo (chuckling): “All right, piccola chef. But no eating all the chocolate chips this time.”

You leaned against the counter, smiling so hard your cheeks ached. The sound of Eliora’s giggles, the smell of batter sizzling on the pan, Matteo’s easy laughter filling the kitchen — it was everything you’d ever dreamed of, right here in this cozy farmhouse.

Matteo glanced at you, eyes warm and soft. He reached over the stove, sliding his hand into yours. Matteo (quiet, just for you): “This is it, amore. Our forever.”

And for the first time, you believed it fully.