DAMIEN'S POV
Friday before Vermont I put up the second shelf.
Elara was at the gallery. I found the level in the kitchen drawer where she'd put it three months ago in the specific way she put things she wanted me to find, visible and accessible and slightly pointed.
I measured twice, found the studs, drilled cleanly. The shelf went up straight on the first attempt which felt disproportionately satisfying.
I stood back and looked at it.
The studio wall now had two shelves. The lower one full, the upper one empty and waiting. I'd bought the same wood as the first, matching the color, because some details mattered even when no one would probably notice.
Elara noticed everything.
She came home at six and went to the studio to put her bag down and I heard the pause from the hallway.
She
