Across the ocean, nestled in the quiet elegance of Switzerland, a little girl of just over three years old was being gently scolded by her mother.
"Claire," Cassidy said, her tone calm but firm, "you can't just take Mommy's phone and call Uncle Xavier whenever you want. You have to ask first, sweetheart."
Claire pouted, her small arms folded across her chest. "But I just missed Uncle Xavi," she mumbled, her voice small and sulky. "I wasn't trying to be naughty."
Cassidy crouched down to her daughter's level, brushing a loose strand of hair from Claire's forehead. "I know you miss him. But what if Uncle Xavi was busy with something important? You can't always interrupt him like that, okay?"
Claire's eyes shimmered with a hint of guilt, and she nodded slowly. "Okay, Mommy. I won't bother him again."
Cass smiled softly, kissing her daughter's cheek. "Thank you. That's my good girl."
"But," Claire added in a mutter, "it has been forever since I saw him."
Cass lifted a brow. "Claire, it's only been one week."
"One week is a long time," Claire insisted dramatically, tossing her tiny arms in the air.
Cass chuckled, shaking her head. It still amazed her how expressive and articulate Claire could be. At just three years old, she spoke like a tiny adult—nagging, explaining, and storytelling like someone far beyond her years. Friends and neighbors often joked that Claire had the soul of an old woman trapped in a little girl's body.
She was well-mannered, obedient, thoughtful, and kind. And although she had never had a father figure growing up, Cassidy was deeply grateful for Xavier's presence in their lives. Somehow, he had managed to fill a piece of that void in Claire's world without even trying. Maybe that was why Claire clung so tightly to him.
Cassidy watched her daughter affectionately. She was her light, her strength, her reason to breathe. Life hadn't been easy, but seeing Claire grow into such a beautiful little soul made every hardship worth it.
She sat on the couch, pulling Claire onto her lap. The little girl immediately snuggled in, wrapping her arms around her mother's waist.
"Mommy," Claire whispered, "can I marry Uncle Xavi when I grow up?"
Cassidy blinked, surprised, then laughed softly. "Why do you want to marry Uncle Xavi, baby?"
Claire looked up with serious eyes. "Because he always brings me strawberry cake. And he listens when I talk. And he smells nice. And—he's not bossy like you."
Cass faked a gasp, placing a hand over her heart. "I'm bossy?"
Claire nodded solemnly. "You tell me to eat broccoli."
"Well, that's because broccoli makes you strong and smart."
Claire wrinkled her nose. "Uncle Xavi said I'm already smart."
"He's not wrong," Cass chuckled, brushing her daughter's hair back. "But you still have to eat your vegetables."
Claire let out a dramatic sigh and dropped her head onto Cass's shoulder. "Fine. But only if you promise not to tell him I said I want to marry him."
Cass smirked. "Your secret's safe with me."
There was a pause before Claire looked up again, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you can tell him to bring more strawberry cake next time."
Cassidy shook her head, trying not to laugh. "You're something else, you know that?"
Claire grinned proudly. "I'm your daughter, Mommy."
And just like that, Cassidy felt her chest tighten with love. So much had changed in her life, but one thing remained clear—Claire was her everything.
***
Cassidy gently closed the door to Claire's room, her steps soft as she walked back into the living room. The lights were dimmed, and the soft hum of the Swiss night drifted through the slightly open window. Just as she reached for a book on the coffee table, her phone buzzed.
Georgia.
Cassidy smiled and answered. "Hey."
"Hey, you," Georgia greeted with her usual warmth. "Did I call too late?"
"Not at all. Claire just fell asleep."
"Oh, finally? That girl has more energy than Jonah and Freya combined," Georgia laughed.
Cassidy chuckled. "She takes after someone stubborn. I wonder who."
They both laughed, then eased into the familiar comfort of sisterly conversation. Georgia shared stories about her daughter Freya, who had just turned eight, and Jonah, now four and endlessly curious.
"Freya's into painting now," Georgia said proudly. "And Jonah won't stop asking questions about dinosaurs. I had to learn about the difference between a triceratops and a stegosaurus yesterday."
Cassidy smiled. "You're a supermom."
"So are you," Georgia replied warmly. Then her voice softened. "Cass... have you ever thought about telling Mom and Dad about Claire?"
There was a pause.
Cassidy's smile faded slightly as she sat down on the edge of the couch. "No," she said simply.
Georgia sighed on the other end. "I know what Dad said to you when you divorced Zeke was harsh. Unforgivable, even. But Mom still asks about you sometimes. Quietly. Softly. Like she wants to reach out but doesn't know how."
Cass shook her head, eyes distant. "You know how Dad is. He'd see Claire as an opportunity. A way back into the Salvador family. I'm not going to let him use my daughter for his ambitions."
"I get it," Georgia replied gently. "But Claire's not just anyone, Cass. She's your daughter. Our family. I just think... maybe one day, Mom should know she exists. Even if it's not now."
Cassidy remained quiet, her fingers absently tracing the seam of the cushion beneath her.
"It's not just Dad," she said finally, her voice low. "You know I never really had a bond with Mom either."
Georgia was silent for a beat. "I know."
"She's the kind of wife who fears her husband," Cass continued, bitterness lacing her tone. "She never spoke up. Never stood up for us. Everything in that house was Dad's rule, Dad's word. And she just... stayed quiet."
"She was scared," Georgia said gently. "Still is, maybe."
Cassidy exhaled slowly. "She never protected us. She never even tried. How could I feel close to someone who watched everything happen and just... obeyed?"
Georgia didn't deny it. "You're right. She wasn't the kind of mother we needed."
"But?" Cassidy prompted, already hearing the shift in her sister's tone.
"But she did love us," Georgia said softly. "In her own way. She just didn't know how to show it. She's soft-spoken, fragile. I don't think she ever knew how to express emotion. Especially under Dad's thumb."
Cassidy frowned but didn't argue.
"I'm not defending her," Georgia added. "But now that we're mothers... don't you get it a little? How hard it is to raise a child? To carry them, love them, fear for them every second?"
Cassidy's expression softened. She glanced toward the hallway, where Claire lay asleep in her little bed.
"I get it," she whispered. "I do."
"Then maybe," Georgia said gently, "it's time to start forgiving. Not for her. But for you."
Cassidy leaned back, eyes closed, the weight of her past pressing gently on her chest. Maybe Georgia was right. Maybe forgiveness didn't mean forgetting—but rather letting go of the grip the past had on her.
"I'll think about it," she said at last.
"That's all I ask," Georgia replied.
They stayed on the phone a little longer, talking quietly, both of them grateful that—despite the brokenness they'd come from—they still had each other.
"Anyway," Georgia said with a teasing lilt, "don't tell me there aren't any handsome Swiss men in your life? Come on, Cass. All that snow and no one to warm you up?"
Cassidy laughed. "Seriously, Georgie?"
"What?" Georgia chuckled. "You're telling me not a single charming man in that beautiful country has managed to melt the ice queen's heart?"
"I'm not an ice queen."
"Mm-hm. But you didn't deny it."
Cass shook her head, still smiling. "No, there's no one. I'm not looking either."
"Don't you ever feel lonely?" Georgia asked softly.
Cass hesitated for a second, then glanced toward the door, where Clara had just passed by with a laundry basket. "No," she said. "I have Claire. And Clara. That's more than enough for now. I just want to focus on Claire."
Georgia paused. "What about Xavier?"
Cass raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"
"Aren't you two close? Claire clearly adores him."
Cass sighed. "Xavier is just a friend. A good one, yes, but that's all."
"Are you sure?"
Cass smiled, amused. "Very sure. Besides… Claire says she wants to marry him when she grows up. It would be weird."
Georgia burst out laughing. "Oh my God. That girl."
"She's very territorial when it comes to her uncle," Cass said dryly.
"Well," Georgia added playfully, "if you ever change your mind and want to shake things up, let me know. Thiego has a bunch of friends—some single, some divorced, all decent. I can totally set you up."
Cassidy rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Thanks, but I'm good."
"Just saying. You're still young, Cass. Still beautiful. You deserve love too."
Cass didn't respond right away. Her smile faded just slightly, but then she nodded. "Maybe someday," she said softly.
After ending the call, Cassidy let out a quiet sigh and placed her phone on the side table. The soft hum of the Swiss night filled the room—calm, peaceful, and quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.
She leaned back against the couch, her eyes drifting to the closed door of Claire's bedroom. The little girl had fallen asleep clutching her favorite plush bunny, her face still slightly puffy from pouting earlier about not being able to call Xavier again tonight.
Cassidy smiled faintly at the memory, but her heart ached with a complex mixture of love, guilt, and longing.
Was Georgia right? Had she built too high a wall around her own heart?
She told herself she wasn't lonely. And most days, it felt true. Claire filled her life with laughter and endless energy, and Clara's presence added warmth to their quiet home. But in rare moments like this—when the night stretched long and her thoughts wandered—she felt something else. An emptiness she didn't want to name.
Cassidy pulled the soft throw blanket over her legs and stared out the window at the dim lights twinkling in the distance.