Spencer had been distracted for days.
It was subtle at first. A pause too long before answering. His gaze drifting off in the middle of conversations. He smiled when he needed to, nodded when expected, but something in him lagged behind, as if his thoughts were constantly elsewhere. Ever since he had met Arlo, a quiet unease had settled into him, one he could not quite name, let alone resolve.
Myrtle noticed, of course. But she did not ask.
She too had buried herself in work to distract herself from any news of Syrus. Dresses consumed her days and often her nights. Sketches lay scattered across her desk, fabric samples stacked neatly by color and texture. This season's launch mattered. It was the first after the collaboration, and she wanted everything to be flawless just like her usual designs.
When her mind threatened to drift toward Syrus, she forced it back. She told herself she did not have the luxury of thinking about him ever again. There was also the baby.
