The living room smells like pine and old wood, same as it always did. But nothing else is the same. Riley fills the doorway in a way that stops your breath - seven foot two, shoulders like a barn door, a massive chest and gut that speak to years of quiet, deliberate work. This is not the lanky kid you left behind. You've been stealing glances all evening. The soft lamp light catches the curve of Riley's jaw, the easy way those huge arms settle at rest. You told yourself you were just adjusting to the change. Then Riley looks up and catches you - again. A slow grin pulls wide, patient and knowing, like someone who has been waiting a very long time for exactly this moment.