Never Not You

Good-Bad-Good

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE

The soft glow of candlelight filled the dining room, casting a romantic warmth over the carefully set table. It was April, and the day marked Leah and Aurora's anniversary—a celebration of years filled with love, challenges, and memories that made them stronger. Aurora had gone all out, insisting they dress up even if they were staying in. Leah wore a sleek black suit that fit her perfectly, and Aurora had opted for a deep red dress, flowing elegantly as she moved. Her hair was swept back, the simplicity adding to her natural beauty.

Dinner was homemade, simple yet special: a classic dish Leah loved, paired with a bottle of red wine that Aurora claimed was perfect for the occasion. Both glasses were filled, though Aurora's was actually a deep red juice—something Leah hadn't noticed yet. Mateo had been tucked into bed hours earlier, his little giggles and chatter now replaced by the peaceful quiet of the evening.

As they finished their meal, Leah leaned back in her chair, swirling her wineglass with a relaxed smile. Aurora, however, seemed thoughtful, her fingers lightly tracing the stem of her own glass.

"I've got a good thing, a bad thing, and another good thing to tell you," Aurora said suddenly, her voice soft but steady.

Leah raised an eyebrow, immediately curious but a little nervous. "Okay," she said, setting her glass down. "How do you want to tell me?"

Aurora smiled, tilting her head playfully. "You tell me. How should I?"

Leah laughed lightly, though she was still on edge. "Good, bad, good. Sandwich it for me."

Aurora nodded, her smile widening as she looked at Leah. "Okay," she said, her tone carrying a teasing edge. But then she stopped.

Leah waited, her nerves starting to spike as the silence stretched. "Rory?" she asked, leaning forward slightly, trying to read the expression on Aurora's face.

Aurora didn't answer, just kept smiling as she brought her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip of juice that Leah still believed was wine. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and something deeper—something warm and full of love.

"Rory!" Leah said again, this time with a half-laugh, half-groan. "Don't leave me hanging here!"

Aurora only grinned wider, setting her glass back down with deliberate slowness. The playful tension between them hung in the air, thick with unspoken words, until Leah leaned over the table, reaching for Aurora's hand.

"Tell me," Leah whispered, her thumb brushing gently over Aurora's knuckles.

Aurora's smile softened, her love for Leah evident in the way she looked at her. But still, she said nothing.

Leah, leaning over the table now, her hands clasped together in a pleading gesture, almost pouted as she looked at Aurora. "Rory, please!" she said, practically begging, her voice filled with a mixture of impatience and longing. "You can't just leave me hanging like this! Tell me!"

Aurora chuckled softly, her grey eyes twinkling with affection as she finally relented. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you. The first bit of good news..." She reached over to the side, where she'd placed a small, neatly folded envelope earlier. Slowly, with the slightest teasing pause, Aurora pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table to Leah.

Leah's eyes widened in surprise as she took the paper, her fingers trembling slightly. She unfolded it carefully, and as her gaze scanned the words on the official document, her heart leapt in her chest. There it was, in black and white—the paperwork certifying that Mateo Elio Miro-Williamson was officially Leah's legally adopted son.