Chapter 47

• The boutique was quiet again. Not still, not truly silent, but quiet in the way a body is when it’s holding something in. The air carried the scent of steamed fabric and jasmine tea. Somewhere in the back, Simone was finishing a late call with the Zurich vendor. I could hear her pacing lightly, her words clipped and professional. But I stayed where I was, fingers curled against the smooth grain of the atelier’s main table. The one Julian had restored with his bare hands. The one I had bled on when I first came back.
• I didn’t want to move yet.
• My skin still held the memory of his touch from last night. Not rushed, not demanding. Just present. His hand had lingered at the base of my spine like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. But he had let go. And I had walked away. Not because I didn’t want him. Because I did. So much that it terrified me. But I needed to face this storm without leaning on anyone else’s strength. Even his.