Elena
Saturday mornings always felt slower. The world seemed to move at a gentler pace, as though the week’s madness had finally unclenched its hold. But that morning, I couldn’t feel any of that calm. I was restless, pacing between my bed and the window, clutching my phone like it held some kind of answer I was too afraid to read.
I’d been thinking about it all night, Alexander’s offer. His voice from the other day kept looping in my head, that confidence that slid so easily into his words, the certainty in the way he’d spoken about me joining his project. There had been something magnetic about it. Something that stirred parts of me I didn’t want to admit existed.
Still, it wasn’t a small decision. Accepting, even considering, meant opening myself up to a storm, professionally, person
