The Only Exception

5. Shared Walls

"You know what the worst part is?" Ruya said.

"What?"

"You're gonna forget how to make your own coffee. That fancy machine he got you? You're going to come back one day and be like, 'Rüya, what is this peasant filter thing you're using?'"

Asi laughed. "I will never betray my Moka pot."

"You say that now."

"Stop planting doubt in my heart. I have stopped drinking coffee, anyway."

They giggled again, and then just held each other quietly, breathing in sync, clinging to the last stretch of the night like it was a tightrope between who they'd been and who they were about to become.

*

The elevator moved like a whisper through the air, barely making a sound. Asi stood slightly to the side, arms folded over her belly, coat draped over one arm. Her eyes watched the digital numbers climb steadily — 28... 29... 30 — but she wasn't really seeing them. The mirror walls of the lift reflected both of them, side by side but not touching, caught in a frame neither of them had figured out how to fill.

Alaz stood beside her, silent. He held her purse in one hand and her suitcase in the other, his expression unreadable except for the slight tension in his jaw.

They hadn't said a word since entering the building. Too many things hung in the air. Too many emotions too sharp to look at directly,

When the elevator chimed softly and the doors slid open, Asi blinked as if waking from a long pause.

They stepped out together onto an entirely empty landing. No neighbors. No other doors. Just one — large, matte black, with a seamless smart lock built into the side panel. Alaz stepped ahead and placed his hand against it. The door unlocked with a quiet click, and he turned toward her, stepping aside so she could enter first.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then walked in.

The air smelled faintly of new materials — polished stone, leather, the sleek cleanliness of a space too pristine to have been lived in yet. Asi stood just inside the threshold, her eyes wide as she took it in.

She had seen the house on video calls, in photos Alaz had sent her with his usual efficiency and lack of commentary. She knew the layout. She had clicked through a 3D render, picked out cabinet colors from a virtual palette, even previewed the lighting options.

But none of it prepared her for the real thing.

The ceilings were high — absurdly so — and the walls were painted in a muted, elegant off-black that shifted slightly depending on how the light hit it. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far wall, revealing a skyline dotted with sharp edges and amber lights. It didn't feel like an apartment. It felt like the upper tier of some futuristic tower, the lair of a man who operated in silence and power.

She turned slowly in place. The furniture was minimal but expensive — modular dark gray sofas, a low coffee table that looked more like a sculpture, a media wall with hidden compartments. The space was massive, open, echoing. She couldn't believe she was going to live here. In this. With him.

Alaz was watching her from a few steps behind, trying not to look like he was watching her.

"This is the kitchen," he said after a beat, nodding toward the sleek corner space with black counters and smart appliances. "As I've told you. Induction everything. There's a filtered water tap, and the fridge has a dedicated vitamin compartment."

Asi arched a brow, turning to look at him. "A vitamin compartment?"

He nodded, straight-faced. "It automatically stores and cools supplements according to—"