Chapter Thirty-Four
The choice doesn’t arrive with fireworks.
It comes on a Tuesday.
No music. No swelling certainty. Just an email opened twice because I don’t trust my first reading of it, and a quiet kitchen that suddenly feels too small for the life it’s asking me to step into.
The offer is generous. Relocating would make sense. Prestige. Momentum. A city that moves faster than my breath.
I close the laptop and stare at the window, at the reflection of myself layered over the city outside. I recognize the old reflex—the one that says say yes before fear catches up. The one that confuses forward motion with freedom.
I don’t answer.
Not yet.
That evening, Noah cooks. Something simple. Something warm. The smell fills the apartment in a way that makes everything feel honest.
“You’
