The week unfolds with a rhythm I am only beginning to understand. Damian still works like a machine, still pushes me past every reasonable limit, still watches with a gaze that could freeze storms. Yet something beneath all of that begins to shift in ways subtle enough to deny, but undeniable once noticed.
He is watching me more carefully.
Not in the invasive, icy way he did before. Not like I am a threat or a failing employee. More like he is assessing the wear on my edges. The exhaustion I try to hide. The small details I forget he can see from behind those dark, attentive eyes.
I arrive early one morning, hoping to beat the rush of tasks that will inevitably pile on my desk. I settle in, rubbing my wrist absently as I sift through overnight emails. The skin still feels tender where a
