If anyone had walked into the office that morning without knowing the usual dynamics, they might've missed the tiny, almost imperceptible shift in the air. But Darien wasn't "anyone," and subtle shifts, especially the ones he had no control over, tended to scrape against his nerves in the most inconvenient way possible.
He stepped through the glass doors with his usual efficiency, half-focused on the string of meetings he didn't want to attend, and half-focused on the coffee he probably should've replaced with something stronger. But then he caught sight of Amara, and whatever remained of his morning composure simply… wobbled.
She was smiling.
