ROWAN
I fixed my suit, one that I’ve worn plenty of times. It was champagne, but not sparkly. Beige, is that it? Francis told me to buy a new one, but I couldn’t be bothered.
Clothes were never something I cared about—not unless they were functional. The idea of spending hours trying on fabric that clung too tight or too loose made me want to crawl back into bed.
Speaking of Francis…
“Ready?” he asked, peeking his head inside my new room.
I glanced around the space. The house had been finished a few days ago with the exception of the office, so I’d started transferring my things here slowly. Right now, it looked bare and uninviting. But I liked it that way. Four walls, a roof, a bed, maybe a TV—what else did I need? Silence was enough.
I adjusted my cufflinks again and ignored the
