It had been about seven months.
Just long enough for the seasons to turn twice. Long enough for new habits to settle in. Long enough for the ache of loss to fold itself into something softer. Not gone, never gone…
But lived with.
The business was thriving again. Slowly, steadily, we'd rebuilt the things that had frayed. The teams were stronger, the systems clearer, the office lighter. There was laughter in the break room now. People lingered after meetings. Things weren't perfect, but they were healthier.
Mark had taken time to rebuild, too —some trust, some confidence, some quiet.
He never said much about the weight he carried during those final months with Edward, not even to me. But the people who worked with him noticed. They first noticed how mad he was.
