ch 7
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📖 Chapter 7 — What Stays, What Shifts
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It was remarkable, Mira thought, how quickly the shape of her days changed once she let Adrian fully in.
Before, there'd been a soft caution between them—a delicate dance around old hurts and unspoken hopes. Now that first kiss had broken the dam, and affection rushed forward in warm, steady waves.
He still respected her space. Still knocked on the frame of her office door in the little building even though she'd given him keys weeks ago. Still asked, "Okay if I come closer?" before wrapping her up in those solid arms that felt more like home than any gilded estate ever had.
But he was there. Every day in small ways—dropping by with fresh bread from a new bakery he found, or driving her to hardware stores outside the city so she could haggle over light fixtures without worrying about delivery fees.
And sometimes in big ways, too—like the night the upstairs heater broke.
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It was almost midnight when the call came from Esha, the younger of the two sisters renting Mira's top flat.
"Miss—Mira? I'm so sorry, but it's freezing in here. The heater is making this awful grinding sound. Noor's got her final design project due and she's already sick—I don't know what to do."
Mira bolted out of bed, pulled on jeans and her thickest sweater, then texted Adrian on pure instinct.
Mira: Emergency. Esha's apartment heater's failing. I'm heading over.
His reply was instant.
Adrian: Meet you there.
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By the time she reached the building, breath clouding in the frosty air, Adrian was already hauling a portable radiator up the steps.
"You didn't have to—"
"Yeah, I did." He shot her a quick grin. "Wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you were here trying to fix it alone."
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They spent two hours clanking around the small apartment. Mira apologized at least a dozen times, feeling every inch the amateur landlord who'd failed to prepare for winter properly.
But Adrian just tested the pipes, checked the power connections, found a likely electrical short, and promised he'd call a trusted technician first thing in the morning.
Then he set up the radiator by the sisters' sofa, triple-checked the window seals, and even coaxed Esha and Noor into a little laughter with stories of a disastrous birthday suit he once wore as a kid.
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When they finally trudged back downstairs, Mira all but collapsed against the cold hallway wall.
"I must look like a complete mess to you."
"You look," Adrian said, brushing a loose strand of hair off her cheek, "like someone who cares more about her tenants' comfort at 1 a.m. than her own beauty sleep. Which is… honestly kind of incredible."
She bit her lip, heart flipping. "Even if I have paint in my hair and dirt under my nails most days?"
"That might actually be my new favorite version of you."
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They stood there in the dim light, sharing soft, tired smiles.
Then Adrian leaned in and kissed her again—slow and sweet, one hand tangled in her hair, the other splayed over her back as if he wanted to keep her anchored right there forever.
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The next morning, as promised, he coordinated with a local repair team while Mira made warm tea for the sisters upstairs. By noon, the heater was humming again, the apartment already cozy with steam curling against the windows.
When Adrian left for a meeting, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.
"Call me if the pipes so much as sneeze," he teased.
She rolled her eyes but her smile was helpless.
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🌸
The days grew shorter.
Her building settled into a peaceful winter rhythm—bright shawls displayed in the tailor's new front windows, the sisters often cooking dishes fragrant with cumin and garlic that drifted through the halls.
Mira spent long afternoons reviewing her modest accounting ledgers. The income was real, if still slim. Enough to keep her small world secure and to start a cautious savings fund.
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But not everyone was thrilled with her choices.
One afternoon she met her mother for lunch at a posh hotel café, a quiet attempt to keep bridges intact. Mira wore a simple green wool dress, her hair in a tidy low ponytail—no reason to flash the rough edges of her new life too openly.
Her mother took one look at her faintly paint-streaked nails and sighed.
"Darling, must you keep living like this? Owning a building in that neighborhood, personally overseeing repairs—couldn't you have at least hired a management firm?"
"It's not just about returns," Mira said gently. "It's about knowing I can do something on my own. Build something real. Not just exist because of the Song name."
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Her mother's lips tightened. For a heartbeat, Mira thought she'd launch into another polite lecture on reputation.
Instead, her mother just reached across the table, took Mira's hand, and squeezed.
"I worry about you, Mira. That's all."
"I know," Mira said. And after a pause, more softly: "But I think for once, I like where my life is headed."
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🌸
Elena reappeared in her life almost by accident.
Mira was coming out of a hardware store one chilly morning, balancing a small box of replacement light bulbs and a new faucet handle, when she nearly walked straight into her.
Elena wore a delicate cream coat, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. Her eyes went wide, startled.
"Mira! I—sorry, I didn't see—"
"It's okay," Mira said quickly, forcing a smile. Her heart did an awkward, painful lurch.
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They stood awkwardly for a long moment, shoppers flowing around them.
Then Elena cleared her throat. "I've… actually been meaning to reach out. I didn't want to crowd you. But I heard about your building—Father mentioned it. Said you were really… making something of your own."
"Trying to," Mira said.
"It's amazing," Elena blurted. Her cheeks flushed pink. "Honestly. I keep thinking if it had been me in your place, I'd have fallen apart. Or clung to the family so tight I'd suffocate."
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Mira's breath caught. For the first time, she truly saw the nerves behind Elena's gentle smile, the small way her shoulders hunched as if bracing for rejection.
"Hey," Mira said quietly. "You're doing fine. You've handled everything thrown at you with more grace than I ever could've."
A tiny, watery laugh escaped Elena. "Maybe we're both learning to be braver than we thought."
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They parted with a cautious promise to meet for coffee soon.
As Mira walked home, heart a little tangled, she thought how odd it was—this slow, careful blooming of something that might one day be sisterhood.
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🌸
At home that evening, Adrian sprawled on her sofa, reviewing some legal documents for a firm merger while Mira sorted receipts at her dining table.
He looked up and caught her thoughtful expression. "Everything okay?"
She hesitated.
"I saw Elena today. It… wasn't as strange as I expected. I think we might actually be learning how to exist in each other's worlds."
Adrian smiled, warm and approving. "That's good. I want you to have peace there. Even if it took all this mess to get you two to find it."
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Mira stood, moved over to the sofa, and curled up beside him.
His arm immediately came around her shoulders, strong and certain.
"You know," she murmured, voice muffled against his shirt, "I used to think my whole worth was tied up in being a Song. In being the daughter they wanted. But now… I have tenants who trust me. A building that stands because I fought for it. And you."
She peeked up at him, heart squeezing at the way his eyes softened.
"You chose me when I was just… me."
"Always would," Adrian whispered, leaning down to kiss her, slow and certain. "Again and again, in every life."
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They stayed like that for a long time, warm in each other's arms while the city moved beyond her windows.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Mira realized she wasn't waiting for the next blow, the next scandal, the next cruel twist.
She was simply here. Living.
And for the first time, truly happy.