It’s been over a week since I bought those 20 books, and my conscience finally won. Every night since that day, I’ve been waking up around 4 AM, unable to sleep because the secret was weighing on me. I spent those quiet hours reading, but the guilt was exhausting.

So, I staged my confession: The Double Frappé Peace Offering.

In the car, I handed over the drink with my best “innocent” face. The questions were rapid-fire:

“How many this time?” and “Where are you going to nestle these new little soul-sparks?”

I took a long sip of my drink.

“I’ll keep them at the office! I’ll just bring one home at a time…”

Then came the laugh. “

Are you wondering how I knew about your little quiet huddle?” came the reply.

“You only wake up that early to work, and I heard you rustling through your nightstand every single night. I was just waiting for you to tell me.”

My partner already knew.

The dam finally broke. I finally showed my Instagram and my website. My partner already knew they existed, but I hadn’t been ready to actually show them yet. And honestly, I wasn’t ready for the weight of that encouragement yet. I needed to let this grow in the quiet for a bit, to make sure I was standing on my own feet before letting my partner in crime in.

But as we drove, the conversation shifted. I said: “I want to build a little library at the entrance with three shelves: ‘Adopt Me,’ ‘Switch Me,’ and ‘Borrow Me.’“

Right now, I share a workspace, so I can’t make changes yet. But I’ve decided: this will be my very first project when I have my own private practice.

In the end, it wasn’t just about the books. It was about finally deciding to be unapologetically myself. And my partner is just happy I found my voice.

These are my original sketches. I used a digital tool, created by my partner in crime, to finish my new Quietling, acting as a creative prosthesis. For me, this process is a form of healing, not artistic performance.