Amara noticed the difference before she trusted it.
Daniel didn't interrupt as much. He asked questions and waited for the answers. He didn't defend himself immediately. Sometimes, he simply said, I didn't realize.
Still, Amara moved cautiously.
She had learned how easily warmth could return without substance. She refused to mistake effort for consistency.
When Daniel suggested meeting again, she agreed—but on her terms. A short walk. Neutral space. No expectations beyond honesty.
She spoke when she felt ready. She paused when she needed to.
And when Daniel stumbled—because he did—she noticed whether he corrected himself or retreated.
That mattered more than apologies.