And while opportunities to rekindle their spark existed, Cecilia often held back.

It wasn't a mystery to Mark; yet, he never voiced any complaints.

His commitment shone through, especially when she wasn't around in Duefron. And Olivia's adoration for him only affirmed his unwavering presence.

Resting her head against his chest, Cecilia traced her fingers gently over the contours of his neck.

"Mark," she murmured, “have I been unfair to you?"

Cooking wasn't her strong suit, and her nurturing instincts weren't always on point.

She recalled times when she'd been absent in his moments of need, while he was perpetually there for her.

Mark decided to deflect; his voice, deep and rich, teased, "Worried about me now?"

She replied, her voice barely a whisper, “Maybe I should do more for you. Be better."

Mark chuckled, pulling a blanket over her.

“So, planning to rise early and whip up breakfast? Maybe even tackle the dishes after?"

She nestled closer, her words muffled by his warmth.

"Maybe not, Uncle Mark."

Mark's heart swelled with affection. Lightly tugging a strand of her hair, he inquired playfully, "Teething, are we?"

His voice softening, he added, “Why does a grown woman Like you remind me so much of little Olivia?"

In a rare moment, Cecilia's laughter bubbled up, carefree and infectious.

In a hushed tone, she shared, “We start shooting in two days.

Thankfully, a lot of the scenes are set in the city; and many are indoors. Mark, maybe we could take the kids somewhere fun? There's this spot with beautiful maple leaves now."

Grinning, Mark replied, “Just admit you want to spend time with me.”

She retorted, “Come on, Mark. Stand next to me and people might mistake us for father and daughter."