The subject came up the way most important things did in their house now, casually, almost accidentally.
Zane mentioned it while clearing the table, stacking plates with the same deliberate care he applied to everything else. Willow was still seated, her laptop open but idle, her attention drifting between a half-formed email and the sound of Zana babbling to herself from the living room floor.
"I heard you postponed the appointment with the wedding planner again," he said.
The tone was neutral, observational, not a question.
Willow looked up. "I rescheduled," she corrected. "She wanted to see more venues."
"And my mother wanted to look at more dresses," Zane added, as though supplying a detail rather than advancing a position.
Willow closed her laptop slowly. "Your mother wants to look at dresses every time she sees me."
"That's not untrue," he said. "But this time she thought it mattered."
