FAZER LOGINDominic's POV Friday I buy flowers, not for Grace. Not as a gesture. Just because Emma mentioned once, six weeks ago, that she missed having flowers in the apartment, that her old place always had something from the corner market, cheap dahlias or grocery store tulips, and she'd stopped buying them when the bills got bad and never started again. I buy dahlias. Yellow and the deep burgundy ones. The woman at the market asks if they're for someone and I say yes and she wraps them and I carry them home and put them in the vase I had to search three cupboards to find. Emma comes in from the patisserie at one fifteen and sees them immediately. Stops. Looks at them. Looks at me. "Dahlias," she says. "The corner on Clement had good ones." She crosses to them and touches one petal. The way she
Emma's POVI sleep with the ring on.I don't mean to make it a thing. I just don't take it off before bed and wake up at six with the unfamiliar weight of it and lie there getting used to it before I open my eyes.Thin gold band. Single stone. Eleanor.Impossible to manage.I look at the ceiling and think about a woman I never met who left a ring in a box in a desk drawer that waited ten years for the right person and apparently decided I was her.I think about Daniel knowing. From the start, Dominic said. Daniel had opinions.I think about all the ways this was already written before either of us agreed to any of it.Then I get up because I'm not a person who lies in bed philosophizing. I'm a person who makes tea and stands in kitchens and works things out with her hands.He's already up, not his office. The kitchen, which is where I find him, standing at th
Dominic's POVShe said yes in a parked car on a Wednesday and I drove us home with her hand in mine and neither of us said much and the quiet was the fullest quiet I've ever sat in.I keep returning to the moment she said ask me now.Not at a restaurant. Not with a ring. Just here.She didn't want the architecture. She wanted the real thing, undecorated, which is the most Emma request she could have made and exactly why I said yes before I'd finished processing that she was asking.Yes I'll ask you. Yes right now. Yes to all of it.Marcus calls at four.I let it ring.He calls again.I answer."The Lau revision came through," he says. "Sixty days confirmed. He's satisfied.""Good."Pause. "You sound……." He stops. "Something happened.""The Lau revision is good news. Send my confirmation.""
Emma's POV Wednesday I go to the patisserie and Celeste takes one look at me and says, "You're different again." "Good morning to you too." "Sit. Coffee." She pours my decaf without asking. "Different how. Tell me." "I'm the same." "You're lighter." She sits across from me, which Celeste never does before ten, and studies my face with the professional attention she usually reserves for pastry. "Something resolved." "Lily's markers are down." Her expression shifts. Genuine and unguarded, the Celeste underneath the Celeste. "Emma." "The treatment is working." She reaches across and squeezes my hand once. Hard. Lets go. "Good. That's good." She picks up her own cup. "What else." "What do you mean what else." "The lighter isn't only Lily." She looks at me over the rim. "I've seen you relieved before. This is different from r
Dominic's POVI call Dr. Reeves myself after Emma goes to rest, not to interfere. Just to understand. There's a difference and Emma would agree with the distinction if I explained it, which I won't unless she asks because she doesn't need to know every way I'm paying attention.Dr. Reeves is professional and measured and tells me what the markers mean in clinical terms and what the next three weeks require and I listen and take notes the way I take notes on everything that matters and thank him and hang up.Sit at my desk.The relief of it is not something I expected to feel at this volume. Lily is Emma's sister. I've met her twice. By any external measure my investment in her recovery should be adjacent, supportive, secondhand.It isn't.Lily is Emma's whole heart outside her own body. Loving Emma means Lily's markers are a thing I feel in my own chest.This is what love does, apparent
Emma's POVTuesday morning I wake up and he's already gone, not gone gone. His side of the bed is warm still, which means recently, and there's water on my nightstand that wasn't there when I fell asleep. I lie there and look at the ceiling and think about the fact that I said *his side* in my own head without flinching.His side.When did that happen.I know when. I just like asking the question because the answer is always the same. Gradually and then all at once. That's how everything happens with Dominic.I get up and find him in his office already on a call, jacket on at seven thirty, which means an international line, and he sees me through the open door and holds up two fingers. Two minutes.I go make tea.He comes out in ninety seconds."Hong Kong," he says. "Sorry.""Don't apologize for working.""I was going to bring you water."
EMMA'S POV We don't talk about what happened in the car. For a week, we move around each other even more carefully than before. Dominic leaves early for work, comes home late. I eat dinner with Mrs. Kowalski and pretend everything is normal. It's not normal. I'm sixteen weeks pregnant now. Ther
EMMA'S POVMrs. Kowalski discovers I'm crying over a commercial about puppies."Kochanie, what's wrong?""Nothing. The puppies found homes and it's just so beautiful." I'm sobbing into a throw pillow at ten in the morning, still in my pajamas.She sits beside m
DOMINIC'S POV Being with Emma is different than I expected. We don't announce anything to Mrs. Kowalski, but she knows immediately. She finds us having breakfast together—actually together, sitting close instead of across from each other—and
EMMA'S POVWe don't talk about what Dominic said.For three days, we move around each other carefully. He asks about my doctor's appointments. I tell him the babies are growing normally. We're polite strangers sharing a space.On Sunday morning, I wake up to find him in the kitchen making breakfast







