Elena's POV
I noticed it slowly.
Not in one dramatic reveal, not in a moment that stoppedbut in the quiet subtraction of things that used to exist.
Lunch invitations that never made it onto Justin's calendar.
Charity brunches he usually attended out of obligation, quietly declined.
Evenings that once required tailored suits and polite smiles suddenly became empty spaces; wide, unclaimed, waiting.
At first, I thought it was the season.
December had a way of softening people, of making even the most relentless schedules bend a little. Justin had always worked hard, but this year, something was different. He was home more. He lingered. He stayed.
He stayed with me.
Mornings stretched longer. Coffee grew cold because neither of us was in a hurry to leave the kitchen. He let me talk about nothing, about everything. He let me exist without expectation. No appearances. No perfect posture. No performance.
Just Elena.
