–Livana–
I never imagined I would find myself seated here again, in this office that feels both mine and foreign—like a crown placed upon my head that I had not quite asked for, yet must wear with poise. It has been a week since Laura's wedding, and my father still insists on "helping out," as though his presence alone could shield me from the world's rough edges. Perhaps, in his mind, I remain fragile—a delicate ornament tucked behind glass because I was once blind. But I am no longer that woman, though I wear the façade like a well-tailored coat, one I dare not remove too soon.
"Are you sure I should leave you here?" Damon's voice, thick with concern and a possessiveness he doesn't bother concealing, cut through my thoughts. I exhaled slowly.
"Yes. Deanne is with me," I replied, deliberately avoiding the directness of his gaze.
