She was never his to own
One for himself, one for Marcus, one to keep safe somewhere, maybe framed, maybe just held.
Now he sat on his couch, the afternoon light fading outside, the apartment quiet around him. He'd been putting this off all day. Not because he didn't want to read it. Because he was afraid of what he'd feel.
The article was long. Beautiful. Priya had written it like a love letter to Elena's work, to her journey, to the woman she'd become. Alexander read slowly, letting each word settle.