But before he could elaborate, Daniel glanced at his watch. Something shifted in his expression… a wall coming down, or going up, Juniper couldn’t tell which.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and there was that same hesitation from the office, that brief moment where his composure cracked. “I have to run off again.”

The words landed heavily in the space between them.

Juniper felt her spine straighten, defensive instinct kicking in before she could stop it. Of course he does.

“Now?” Sophia asked, surprise evident in her tone. “We were just…”

“I know.” Daniel slowed, half-turning as if he might peel away from their group. Confidence and reluctance warring in the set of his shoulders. “I’ll… I’ll let you two know any updates.”

His gaze met Juniper’s for just a second… something apologetic, something frustrated… before he looked away.

“Yeah. Okay.” Juniper’s voice came out flat. Professional. The same tone she’d use with any colleague bailing on a meeting.

She watched him turn, watched his tall frame move back toward the blue ring they’d entered from. His steps were measured but uneven, like he was fighting himself with every stride.

Sophia’s hand found Juniper’s wrist, a gentle touch. “Juni…”

“It’s fine,” Juniper said quickly, pulling her attention away from Daniel’s retreating figure. It is fine. It’s work. He’s a colleague. That’s all this is.

But her chest had tightened anyway, that familiar ache blossoming beneath her ribs. The one that said not enough, never enough, always left behind.

Above them, a cyclist glided past, the shadow crossing over them both.

When Juniper looked back, Daniel was almost to the edge of the violet ring, his broad shoulders visible for just another moment before the blue haze swallowed him whole.