Ease softened the way the future entered her thoughts.
Aaliyah noticed it when an idea surfaced without urgency, an image of doing something new, not as escape or reinvention, but as quiet extension. The thought arrived, hovered, and stayed light.
She didn't pursue it.
She let it breathe.
The morning unfolded without distinction.
Rowan left early, pressing a kiss to Aaliyah's temple before slipping out. The apartment settled back into stillness, a familiar, welcoming quiet. Aaliyah made breakfast slowly, eating without distraction, letting the day reveal itself at its own pace.
There was no pressure to decide who she would be today.
She already was.
Later, she attended the class again, noticing how little she prepared now. She trusted the space to hold whatever arrived. When it was her turn to speak, she shared something small.
"I used to think peace meant the absence of desire," she said. "Now I think it means knowing I don't have to act on every one."
