When he finally walked in, tall and broad-shouldered, the world seemed to still. The necklace rested against his chest, the blue stone catching the light. Mara’s throat tightened, but she forced a smile. He approached, cautious curiosity in his eyes. “You wanted to talk about this necklace?” he asked.
She nodded, her voice low. “It belonged to me… once. I gave it away a long time ago.” His brow furrowed, and she could see the questions rising. She told him about her heirloom, the adoption, the keepsake box—careful not to press too hard, letting him piece things together.