The morning after the proposal felt different, not because anything had visibly changed, but because I had. The loft was quiet, but no longer still in the way it had been. Stillness had once been silence, almost numb. Now it was choice. There was movement beneath every moment, the kind that came from knowing too much to remain where you were.

I moved slowly across the studio floor, letting my fingers trail along the edge of the materials table. The light filtering through the tall windows ...