By Sunday morning, the universe must’ve decided I’d had enough drama for one week.

The sunlight was soft, warm against my curtains, and for once, there were no rocks at my window, no shouting, no Kevin. Just silence. Beautiful, golden silence. The kind that seeps into your skin and makes you forget, for a second, that your entire life almost went up in flames less than forty-eight hours ago.

I dragged myself out of bed sometime past ten, hair a mess and eyes half-shut, and nearly tripped over a small box sitting on the porch when I opened the door to grab the newspaper.

It was wrapped neatly in lavender paper with a tiny silver bow.

No name. No address. Just “For you.”

I frowned, holding it up like it might explode. “What the hell…”

Inside, there was a note written in clean handwriting:

“You deserve to relax. Take a break.”

And beneath it—a full spa set: bath salts, essential oils, and one of those ridiculously fluffy robes you only ever see in hotel commercials.

I blinked. Then blinked again.

“Okay… creepy or sweet? I can’t tell.”

Behind me, Mom’s voice made me jump. “What’s that?”

I turned, clutching the box. “I—uh—don’t know. It was on the porch.”

She raised an eyebrow, then grinned. “A mystery gift? Oh, Yara… looks like someone’s got a secret admirer.”

“Mom, please.” I rolled my eyes, but she just kept smiling, sipping from her coffee like this was the most entertaining thing that had happened all week.

“Maybe it’s that handsome boy from the wedding—what’s his name again? The one who gave you a ride home?”

I groaned. “It’s not him. And it’s not Kevin either, if that’s where your mind is going.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking Kevin,” she said innocently, which only made me more suspicious. “Still, this is sweet. You should thank whoever it is.”

“I would—if I knew who the hell they were.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Well, until then, just enjoy it. Maybe the universe felt bad for smacking you twice yesterday.”

I almost smiled at that. Almost.

After breakfast, she insisted we “test” the spa set. I thought she was joking. She wasn’t. Within an hour, our bathroom looked like a luxury retreat—candles lit, the tub foaming, and both of us sitting there in fluffy robes like some kind of awkward spa commercial.

“Okay,” I said, sinking back in the warm water, “this is actually… nice.”

“Told you,” she replied, eyes closed. “Nothing a little lavender and hot water can’t fix.”

For a while, we didn’t talk. Just the sound of water and the faint scent of vanilla filling the room. It felt weirdly peaceful.

Then Mom broke the silence. “I shouldn’t have slapped you yesterday.”

My eyes opened.

She sighed, her voice soft. “You were right to be angry. I just—sometimes I react before I think. You remind me of myself at your age.”

I stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering. “I shouldn’t have snapped either. You didn’t deserve that.”

She smiled faintly. “Guess we’re both stubborn.”

“Runs in the family,” I said, and we both laughed—a small, tired laugh that somehow made the air feel lighter.

The steam curled around us, blurring the edges of everything, making the moment feel softer, safer. For once, it wasn’t awkward between us. It wasn’t tense or sharp. Just two women sitting in a bubble bath, trying to figure life out one apology at a time.

When the water finally started cooling, Mom reached over and squeezed my hand. “Whoever sent that gift,” she said, “they did a good thing. It brought us here.”

I nodded, smiling faintly. “Yeah… maybe it wasn’t about the admirer at all.”

“Maybe it was from me,” she teased, eyes glinting.

I smirked. “You can’t even afford the fancy coffee pods, Mom.”

She splashed a bit of water my way. “Watch it.”

We both burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the tile walls.

Later that evening, as I dried my hair in front of the mirror, I caught her humming in the kitchen. A small thing, but it felt new. She hadn’t hummed in weeks. Maybe months.

The scent of bath oil still clung to my skin. My muscles ached less, my chest felt lighter, and for the first time since the café incident, I didn’t feel like I was one wrong word away from falling apart.

It’s funny how something as simple as bubbles and lavender could make a house feel like home again.

Maybe that was the real gift.

When I finally crawled into bed, the box sat on my nightstand, the note propped up beside it. “You deserve to relax.”

I ran my fingers over the handwriting, still wondering who sent it.

Kevin wouldn’t. Rayan wouldn’t.

At least… I didn’t think he would.

I smiled faintly to myself and turned off the light, letting the quiet settle around me like the faint scent of lavender still clinging to my hair.

For the first time all week, I fell asleep smiling.