DAMIEN'S POV
The second week of December I went to New York for three days, board preparation, year-end financials, and a dinner with three institutional investors that James had scheduled months ago. The kind of trip that used to consume me completely and now felt like a portion of my life rather than the whole of it.
Elara drove me to the airport Monday morning.
She didn't always. Sometimes I took a car. But Monday she'd been up early anyway, a gallery call at seven with a Chicago collector, and she said she'd drive me since she was already dressed.
At the departures drop-off she kept the engine running.
I got out and came around to her window.
She rolled it down.
"Three days," I said.
"Call me tonight."
"I will."
"Not a text. An actual call."
"I know the difference."
She loo
