Living in four hundred square feet required adjustment.
Not the romantic, montage-version of adjustment either—the kind where everything felt cozy and meaningful and intentionally minimalist.
No.
This was real adjustment.
The kind that meant learning exactly how far six feet actually was when you were sharing it with another person who had nowhere else to go.
The kind that meant negotiating silence.
Negotiating space.
Negotiating breath.
Sienna discovered very quickly that working from home wasn't an option. Not unless she wanted to lose her mind—or her job.
So she didn't.
Every morning, she packed her laptop, grabbed her headphones, and walked down to the small coffee shop on the corner. It wasn't glamorous. The chairs were slightly uncomfortable, the Wi-Fi unreliable at peak hours, and the barista always played the same playlist on repeat.
But it gave her something the apartment couldn't.
Distance.
Alessandro, meanwhile, stayed behind.
The apartment became his office.
