Completeness, Aaliyah learned, was quieter than arrival.
It didn't feel like a finish line crossed or a door closed behind her. It felt more like a room whose temperature had finally stabilized, no drafts, no pressure to adjust. Just an ease that allowed her to notice herself without commentary.
She woke early, not from urgency but habit, and stayed in bed longer than she used to. Rowan breathed steadily beside her, one arm flung across the space between them. Morning light pooled at the edge of the curtains, patient.
Aaliyah did not reach for her phone.
That alone felt like a small victory.
Later, as they shared breakfast, Rowan watched her carefully.
"You're smiling at nothing," Rowan said.
Aaliyah laughed softly. "I think I'm smiling at this."
Rowan glanced around, the half-finished toast, the open window, the ordinary morning sounds.
"Good," Rowan said. "It would be a shame to miss it."
The day unfolded without agenda.
