New Morning
The kitchen was filled with the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh eggs as Ellen stood by the stove, humming softly to herself. A small giggle escaped her lips, and she quickly bit down on her fingers, holding the spatula in her other hand. She couldn't help it—last night had been a huge development, and the memory of Mason's drunken confession still played over and over in her mind like a sweet song she didn't want to end.
She flipped the eggs with a satisfied smile, Everything felt different now. Brighter. More hopeful. Even if Mason had been drunk when he said those things, it didn't matter. What mattered was that she had heard him, and he had let her in, if only for a moment.
With a happy sigh, Ellen grabbed the plates and walked over to the dining table, carefully setting them down. As she straightened up, she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps behind her.