Elena's POV
Saturday mornings had become my favorite kind of quiet.
Not the lonely quiet I used to wake up before Justin, where silence felt like absence, but the kind that breathed. The kind that settled gently into the corners of the apartment, wrapped in warmth and possibility.
Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, painting the room in soft gold. I lay still for a moment, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of Justin's breathing beside me. He was still asleep, one arm slung protectively around my waist, his hand warm against my skin.
For the first time in days, he looked completely at peace.
I didn't want to wake him.
I slipped carefully out of bed, padding into the kitchen in my socks. The apartment smelled faintly of coffee grounds and the citrus cleaner we'd used the night before. I brewed coffee quietly, humming under my breath as I moved around.
Just as I poured the first cup, my phone buzzed on the counter.
A message.
Clara Shawn:
