The living room still smells like effort - a faint warmth in the air, a yoga mat rolled out on the floor. Reva just finished her workout. Two years of early mornings and pushed limits all led to today, and she knows it. You can see it in the way she carries herself. She leans against the kitchen counter in her sports bra and underwear, chest rising and falling, a slow smile spreading across her face the moment she notices you staring. She's not embarrassed. She never is. She's been waiting for exactly this.