He smiled more easily. Laughed at little things. Commented more frequently on how “perfect” the coffee was. It was a small detail—but Rosa always responded with a soft thank you and a glance that lingered a bit too long.
Once, Clara walked in just as Marc was handing Rosa Leo’s bottle. Their hands brushed. They laughed. Rosa said something Clara couldn’t hear, and Marc grinned like he was in on a joke. The moment broke the second they saw Clara—Marc cleared his throat, Rosa stepped back. Neither of them said anything. But to Clara, that silence said everything.