The days that followed were quieter. The sharp arguments had faded, replaced by a careful stillness that felt fragile but promising. Elsa kept to her routine of small acts of service, thoughtful gestures, but Luca began to notice more than just the effort. He noticed her patience. She didn’t push, didn’t ask for more than he was willing to give, and that, strangely, made him want to give something back. One afternoon, Luca was in the estate’s workshop, repairing an old clock his father had once used as a teaching tool, he never threw it away as it held memories to his dad. He preferred quiet when working, so when Elsa appeared in the doorway, he almost told her to leave. But she didn’t step inside immediately. “I used to hate that clock,” she said softly, smiling faintly. Luca paused, glancing up. “Yeah? Why?” “Because it never stopped ticking. Even at night. I remember thinking, ‘How can anyone sleep with that sound in their head?’” Luca chuckled under his breath.