Synopsis:

Seventeen years ago, Ava Langford was left alone and pregnant at nineteen—heartbroken, terrified, and determined to build a beautiful life for the tiny boy in her arms. What she didn’t expect was Ray. Her best friend. Her safe place. The quiet, unwavering constant who held her hand through every tantrum, report card, and 3AM fever. He wasn’t Sebastian’s father—but in every way that mattered, he became exactly that.

Now, Sebastian is a teenager with sharp comebacks and a hidden soft heart, Ava is still her over-affectionate, dramatic, loving self, and Ray—well, Ray’s been in love with her since the moment she held that baby in her arms.

But parenting a teenager isn't for the weak. Between school proposals, sudden kisses, teenage attitude, Ava's fear of abandonment, and Ray’s inability to say the one thing he’s been dying to, this little found family is on the edge of some big changes.

And when Sebastian’s estranged biological father suddenly returns, old wounds reopen. Ava finds herself caught between past trauma and present love, while Sebastian must decide what father truly means—and who gets to be called family.

Funny, emotional, messy, and full of tender chaos,Lavender  Skies is a story about the family you make, the love that waits quietly for years, and how sometimes the strongest kind of bravery… is letting yourself be loved back.

I smelled sugar and chaos the moment I woke up.


There was sizzling coming from the kitchen. Some kind of sweet smell—vanilla, maple syrup, cinnamon? I wasn't sure, but it screamed "mom's up and making a mess."


Which was weird, because she'd been pretty quiet lately.


I rubbed my eyes, threw on a hoodie, and padded downstairs.


What I didn't expect to see was Ray in my kitchen.


Wearing my mom's pink 'Whisk Me Away' apron.


Like a househusband. Like he lived here well I mean he did but like this was normal.


Mom was sitting on the counter in pajama shorts and Ray's hoodie, barefoot, hair still messy from sleep, legs swinging like she was five. Eating strawberries again, of course. Crystal bowl. Classic.


"Sebby!" she grinned, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. "Ray made pancakes! There's even chocolate chips in them. And whipped cream. Wanna sit? Want coffee? You look grumpy."


She was glowing. That same glowy glow she gets after spa treatments or crying at Disney movies. Only this time it was warm and sleepy and… soft. The kind of soft that looks like safety.


Ray handed her a pancake on a plate without looking. She took it with a quiet, mumbled, "Thank you, handsome cold boy."


He just chuckled, and went back to flipping the next one.


This wasn't new exactly — they'd always been close, annoyingly so — but something was different now. Something had changed.


I turned around, muttering, "I'm going back to bed. I can't deal with this married couple energy at 8 AM."


"We're not married!" she yelled behind me.


I didn't reply. Just shook my head and walked away.


I mean… sure, I'd said no to the pretty girl who confessed to me outside school the other day. But at least she didn't wear a man's hoodie while eating fruit like a toddler.


And maybe—just maybe—I liked it that way.


Chapter 19 - Pancakes, Drool, and Domestic Disasters