The morning after the leaks settled into silence. Not the kind that feels peaceful, but the kind that stretches across a room when there is too much left unspoken. Julian woke before I did, quietly sliding out of bed with a softness that made me pretend I was still asleep. I heard him pad across the floor, the subtle rustle of fabric as he dressed, the click of the door as he stepped out into the kitchen. For a long time, I stayed there, curled beneath the sheets that still held the warmth of ...