DAMIAN'S POV
The week unfolded with a deliberate slowness, as if time itself had decided to tread carefully around them. Emma noticed it first on Tuesday morning, when the city traffic seemed less aggressive, the horns fewer, the rush softened into something almost courteous. Or maybe it was just her—her senses tuned differently now, alert to every small shift, every quiet moment that hinted at change.
Damian moved through the apartment with an unfamiliar lightness. Not careless, not distracted—just less burdened. He still checked his phone too often, still paused at windows as if calculating distances only he could see, but there was a steadiness to him that hadn't been there before. A week ago, his calm had been forged from control. Now, it seemed rooted in choice.
