MIA POV Saturday arrived clear and cool, the kind of morning that made the decision feel practical instead of symbolic. I woke to the solid warmth of Ryder’s body and the late, soft check-in of the fear. It registered, named itself, and receded when the present answered with the weight of his arm and the quiet fact that we had already agreed on the shape of the day. I turned into him and rested there for a few minutes before either of us spoke. “Morning,” he said. “Morning.” “Volume?” “Low. Manageable. Ready enough.” His hand moved once along my back. “We can take the whole day if you need it. Or stop halfway. Nothing has to be finished on a schedule.” “I want it finished. But I might need quiet while we do it.” “Quiet I can do.” We rose and moved through the early hours without hurry. Coffee. Toast. The ordinary rhythm that had become the foundation of most mornings. I stood at the window with my mug and looked out at the city without searching for the windows tha
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-29
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