Edward stepped quietly into Abigail’s room, the soft creak of the door barely audible. She was still asleep, just as he’d hoped. He had left her earlier to rest and recover from the fever that had left her weak and burning up. Seeing her now—peaceful, breathing steadily, her back turned to the door—brought a quiet smile to his lips.
He moved closer, careful not to make a sound, and circled around the bed until he could see her face. She looked so serene, her features relaxed, her lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. He sat down gently on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on her.
She’s finally resting… after everything. The thought echoed in his mind, soft and full of something he hadn’t dared name until now.
He watched her, and something inside him stirred. It wasn’t just concer
