Evelyn’s POV
The days that followed felt different, softer somehow.
It wasn’t about grand gestures or promises, but the quiet rhythm of shared mornings, of two people learning how to exist in the same space again without walls between them.
Evelyn began to notice it in small things, like how Damian stayed longer at breakfast, how he no longer left the mansion before dawn, how his phone stayed face-down during their conversations, and the way he had been sleeping in her run, with his arm around her baby bump all night.
The mansion, once echoing with silence, now carried a subtle hum, the sound of life returning.
Sometimes, she would wake up before him and just listen. His breathing, deep and steady beside her. The faint rustle when he turned. It was soothing to her in a way she hadn’t
