Some mornings began with calls and ended with floral samples spread across her dining table. Other days reversed that order entirely, contracts reviewed before coffee, fabric swatches chosen between meetings. Willow moved through both worlds with the same posture and the same steadiness, no longer bracing herself for the collision between who she was building and who she already was.
Zane noticed the change long before she named it.
He remained present without inserting himself. He showed up when asked and stepped back when not. He learned the rhythm of her focus, when she needed quiet and when she needed grounding, and he respected it without commentary. In return, she learned the shape of his silences, the way he processed rather than reacted, the way his support never announced itself but was always there.
