= Amara =
I was already home before the sun dipped beneath the horizon. The house welcomed me with its familiar stillness, and I let myself rest for an hour, stretched out and listening to the quiet, before forcing myself back on my feet to prepare dinner.
Somewhere along the way, moving around Mikael’s house had stopped feeling foreign.
I knew where the utensils were without opening every cabinet. I reached for spices without second-guessing myself. My hands moved on their own, as if I’d been doing this for far longer than I actually had.
Almost two weeks, I reminded myself. That was all it had been. Maybe that was why it felt natural—routine had a way of settling into your bones faster than you expected.
I kept dinner simple. Light. Healthy. Something that wouldn’t weigh us down af
