CHAPTER 27 Settling Into Us
1619 Words
The morning light warmed Marnie’s face before she fully surfaced from sleep. She shifted, feeling the soft sheets against her skin—then paused when she remembered she wasn’t alone in the bed. She opened her eyes slowly and turned her head just enough to see Michael lying on his side, still asleep.
He looked peaceful.
She studied the steady rise and fall of his chest, the faint crease between his brows, the softness that only appeared when he wasn’t trying to compose himself for the world. She wondered if anyone else had seen him this gentle before.
Most of all, she wondered why she didn’t feel scared waking up next to him.
Instead, she felt… warm.
Safe.
Wanted.
Those three words made her curl her fingers into the sheets, unsure how to name what was blooming inside her.
Her subtle movement must have stirred him, because Michael’s breathing shifted. A moment later, his eyelids fluttered open. He blinked slowly, adjusting to the light before his eyes settled on her.
For the first time since she met him, he looked surprised—genuinely surprised—to see her watching him.
“Marnie?” His voice was still thick with sleep. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she whispered back.
He held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, as if memorizing the sight of her lying beside him.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked gently.
“Yes. And you?”
He nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “Better than I have in a long time.”
Something about that simple confession softened her again.
She sat up carefully, brushing her hair back. “I’ll—uh—I’ll wash up first.”
Michael nodded, but she noticed the way his eyes followed her movements with a quiet fondness he wasn’t even trying to hide.
She disappeared into the bathroom, her heart beating louder than usual.
A Slow, New Normal
By the time she stepped out dressed in a soft white shirt and shorts, Michael had already made the bed and was tidying the room. He moved with quiet intention, as though he wanted everything around her to feel calm and comfortable.
“Do you always wake up this early?” she asked.
“Usually,” he said, giving her a small smile. “It’s a habit from the hospital. But I didn’t mind staying longer today.”
His eyes softened meaningfully.
“Waking up next to you was… different.”
Her cheeks warmed instantly.
He didn’t say it to tease her. He said it because it was true.
And that truth made her heartbeat stutter.
Breakfast in a Growing Relationship
They shared breakfast again—this time with Marnie helping prepare the food. She sliced fruits while he cooked eggs, and the small domesticity of it all made her chest tighten in unfamiliar ways.
Halfway through setting the table, her hand brushed his by accident. She jolted slightly, surprised by the contact. But Michael stilled, watching her reaction carefully.
“Are you alright?” he asked softly.
“Yes. Just… not used to this yet.”
He nodded with understanding. “We’ll take it slow. As slow as you need.”
She appreciated the sincerity in his voice. Her nervousness eased a little.
Once they sat down, Michael glanced at her again. “We should talk about something important.”
Her heart skipped. “About what?”
“Your schedule,” he said calmly. “Your school, your routine… everything. I want to make sure you don’t feel like your life stops just because you married me.”
She looked down, fiddling with her fork. “My life is changing so fast.”
“I know,” he said gently. “But it’s still your life. I don’t want to take anything from you. I want to add to it.”
The way he said it made her chest grow warm again.
She nodded quietly. “Thank you.”
But deep inside, she wondered how she would balance being a wife to a man she was just beginning to understand.
Settling Into Their Space
As the day passed, Marnie became more familiar with the condo. She moved slowly, exploring the little details and personal touches she had missed yesterday. The soft lighting, the way the rooms flowed naturally into each other, the subtle warmth in the design—it all reflected Michael’s personality.
Precise.
Organized.
Warm beneath the surface.
Michael watched her with a small smile as she walked around, touching the edge of the counter or examining decorations.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered honestly. “It feels… peaceful.”
He exhaled in visible relief. “Good. I wanted you to feel at home here.”
“I do,” she whispered.
He looked at her—really looked at her—as though her words were a gift he didn’t expect to receive so soon.
A Moment Too Close
In the afternoon, Marnie tried arranging the vanity table he’d prepared. She sorted the skincare bottles by height, smoothing the edges of the small towels he’d placed there.
She didn’t notice Michael approaching until his reflection appeared beside hers in the mirror.
She froze.
He stood close behind her—too close. Not touching, but close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence.
“You don’t have to arrange anything,” he said softly. “I already did.”
“I just… wanted to make it look nicer.”
“It already does,” he murmured. “Because it’s yours.”
Her spine tingled at the warmth in his voice.
She turned around to face him, but the space between them was smaller than she anticipated. Her breath caught when she realized how close their faces were.
Michael’s gaze dipped to her lips for a fleeting second before returning to her eyes.
“Sorry,” he murmured, stepping back gently. “I didn’t mean to crowd you.”
She shook her head instinctively. “You weren’t.”
His brows lifted slightly.
He wasn’t expecting that answer.
Afternoon Reflections
They spent the later hours sitting on the couch, Michael reviewing medical reports on his laptop while Marnie flipped through a book she wasn’t really reading.
Every few minutes, she caught him stealing glances at her. Not in a way that made her uncomfortable—but in a way that made her feel seen.
Cherished.
Finally, she asked, “Do you always work this much?”
“Not always,” he replied. “I’m trying to lessen my workload so I can spend more time with you.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” he said simply. “Being with you is important.”
He didn’t say it dramatically. He didn’t say it to impress her.
He said it like the truth he built his decisions around.
Evening Softness
Dinner was quieter, not because they lacked things to say, but because every moment felt comfortable. After eating, Marnie washed the dishes again, and this time Michael didn’t hover—he leaned against the counter, arms crossed, smiling in a way she rarely saw.
“What?” she asked nervously.
“Nothing,” he said. “I just like seeing you here.”
“Doing dishes?” she asked incredulously.
“Being mine.”
Her breath hitched.
He said it so calmly, like stating a fact he was profoundly grateful for.
She turned away quickly to hide her blush, but she felt his eyes on her for the rest of the task.
Nighttime Confessions
When they entered the bedroom again, Marnie paused near the foot of the bed.
Michael noticed immediately. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch tonight?”
She shook her head.
“You can stay,” she said quietly. “I… felt safe with you here last night.”
Michael’s chest rose slowly, visibly touched. “Alright. I’ll stay.”
They lay down again, just like the night before—but this time, the air felt different. Closer.
More charged.
After a few minutes of silence, Marnie spoke.
“Michael?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you look at me like that?”
“How do I look at you?” he asked softly.
“Like I mean something important to you.”
“You do,” he answered without hesitation.
“But why?” she whispered.
He turned on his side, facing her fully.
“Because you remind me of the part of myself I thought was gone,” he said. “The part that wants something real. Something gentle. Something that isn’t built on expectations or convenience.”
His voice lowered.
“And because every time I see you, I feel like I’m finally home.”
Her breath trembled.
She swallowed hard, unsure what to say.
Then she whispered, “You make me feel safe.”
He closed his eyes briefly, as if her words struck something deep inside him.
“I’ll spend every day making sure you stay safe,” he murmured. “With me, you’ll never be alone.”
Slowly, cautiously, Marnie reached toward him. She didn’t touch him—just placed her hand on the bed between them, barely brushing his fingers.
Michael looked at her hand.
Then he gently intertwined his fingers with hers.
No rush.
No pressure.
Just a quiet connection in the dark.
They fell asleep like that—hands clasped lightly, sharing a silent promise neither of them had spoken aloud yet.
A promise that whatever this marriage was becoming…
They both wanted to keep walking toward it.
- Writer
