By the time he got home, the exhaustion had settled deep in his bones.
The day had drained him—not physically, but mentally. Too many questions, and too much speculation.
And now, it was time.
Miranda was already waiting when he walked in.
She sat at the dining table, laptop open, phone beside her, an iced coffee in hand.
She looked up as he entered, her sharp eyes scanning him like she knew what was coming.
"Long day?" she asked, leaning back.
Izan exhaled as he pulled out a chair and sat across from her. "You could say that."
Miranda closed her laptop. "You've made a decision." It wasn't a question.
He met her gaze.
A beat of silence passed.
Then—
"I choose....Arsenal."
Miranda didn't react immediately. No surprise, no skepticism. Just a slow, considering nod.
"You're sure?"
Izan ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I mean… I think so."
Miranda studied him for a moment before reaching for her phone. "Then let's get to work."
