The Only Exception

5. Shared Walls

"You didn't buy this fridge. The fridge bought itself."

Alaz blinked. "...possibly."

Asi laughed under her breath, then followed him as he continued the tour. He gestured toward the main open space.

"This is the living room, obviously."

"Mm-hmm," Asi said, peeking at the barely-used couch. "Let me guess, you've never sat here in your life."

"Once," Alaz said. "When the delivery guys were late."

"I'm sure it was a meaningful experience."

"It was mostly cold."

She smirked but said nothing.

"I'm kidding, Asi. Of course I'm sitting here."

"My bedroom is in there," he continued, pointing to a closed door at the far end. "And next to it is my office."

He started walking again, his steps soft on the hardwood floors.

"This is your office," he said, stopping by a smaller room with glass doors. "It's not big, but I think you'll be all right."

Asi stepped inside. The room was small, yes, but it had a tall window, a wide desk, and a reading chair tucked into the corner beside a minimalistic bookshelf — already stocked with a few of her titles.

"You're right," she said. "This'll do."

"There's a full-spectrum light installed," he added. "To help with seasonal affective symptoms. I thought... it might help."

Asi turned to him, surprised. "Thank you."

He gave a small nod and moved on.

"Here's the bathroom. I have my own in my room, so this one's all yours."

It was like something out of a luxury spa — marble counters, a rainfall shower, matte black fixtures.

"And here," Alaz said, opening another door, "is your bedroom."

Asi stepped inside and stopped.

It was her apartment. Or — a version of it. Not a replica, not a childish imitation. But it had her in it, woven into the details. The cream-colored duvet she refused to part with. The framed photos from her trips. Her books stacked in the same uneven way she always arranged them. And in the corner, near the window — her piano.

She blinked, stunned.

"I had them bring everything two days ago," Alaz said quietly from behind her. "So you're more than ready."

Asi smiled, soft and real. "Thank you. Everything looks... really good."

He gave a half-smile. "There's also a gym. And a spare bedroom. It's next to my office."

Asi turned to him, arms crossing lightly over her chest. "In case you get tired of me already?"

"In case you start playing the piano at two in the morning," he said.

"Fair," she conceded. "You do realize the piano's mostly decorative. I haven't practiced in months."

"You might want to start again."

She tilted her head. "Is that a command?"

He gave her a look. "It's a suggestion."

"Coming from the man who sleeps four hours a night and works twelve? I'm flattered you think I'll have time for hobbies."

"Being here doesn't mean you stop being you," Alaz said, more serious now. "You don't have to become someone else."

Asi softened, her teasing edge dialing back slightly. "Well. I suppose I won't turn into a soulless executive overnight."