Sunny's apartment is chaos.
Blankets on the floor.
Takeout containers half-open.
Two mismatched mugs on the coffee table.
Her laptop is balanced on a pillow.
She's editing.
Zane is stretched across her couch, scrolling absently through his phone.
It's quiet in the comfortable way.
Lived-in.
Sunny pauses her video.
"You know," she says suddenly.
Zane doesn't look up.
"That's usually dangerous."
She nudges his leg with her foot.
"You've changed everything."
That makes him glance over.
"Hmm?"
She closes her laptop slowly.
"If you hadn't come back," she says, softer now, "I don't think I would've grown."
He frowns faintly.
"You were always growing."
"Not like that," she insists. "You pushed me. You saw me before I saw myself."
He shifts slightly on the couch.
"That wasn't intentional."
"That's the point," she says.
She leans back against the couch, looking up at him.
"And Laura."
He stills slightly.
"You challenged her. You made her question things."
He exhales through his nose.
"That didn't go smoothly."
"No," Sunny agrees. "But it started something."
She counts on her fingers dramatically.
"If you hadn't pushed her, she wouldn't have started therapy. If she hadn't started therapy, she wouldn't have grown. If she hadn't grown, she and Axel wouldn't have…"
She gestures vaguely.
"…clicked."
Zane snorts softly.
"They were always clicking."
"Not like this."
She smiles.
"All thanks to you."
She leans up and kisses his cheek lightly.
He looks mildly uncomfortable with the praise.
"You're giving me too much credit."
She shakes her head.
"Your presence changed everything."
He looks down at his phone again, quieter now.
"All I did was show up," he says.
"And be yourself," she counters.
He studies the ceiling.
"…Even when I signed a contract that took me ten hours away for six months?"
Her smile fades slightly.
She shifts closer.
"That was a lesson."
He looks at her.
"I hurt you."
"You did," she says honestly.
He swallows.
"And you didn't leave."
"No," she says.
He exhales slowly.
"Won't repeat it."
She reaches for his hand.
"I know."
They sit there for a moment.
The takeout grows cold.
The editing timeline stays paused.
Sunny rests her head against the couch cushion near his shoulder.
"You being yourself," she says quietly, "is kind of perfect."
He rolls his eyes faintly.
"That's excessive."
She grins.
"You like excessive."
He pulls her closer without arguing.
The trio has changed.
But it didn't break.
It expanded.
And sometimes—
that's enough.