Keira
The week stretched out longer than any seven days had any right to feel, every conversation, every quiet moment alone, circling back to the same impossible math I couldn't quite solve. I spent most mornings staring at the offer letter, most evenings talking it through with one or another of them, each conversation peeling back a different layer of the decision until I felt like I understood it from every possible angle except the one that actually mattered, what I truly wanted underneath all the practical calculations.
Noah found me at the studio on Wednesday, staring at his half-finished canvas without really seeing it, lost in my own head.
"You've been quiet," he said, settling beside me on the small couch.
"I keep trying to figure out the right answer, like there's some equati
