The following morning, sunlight filtered faintly through the sheer curtains of their bedroom—soft gold spilling across the sheets, outlining the shape of Marnie curled at the edge of the bed.
She didn’t mean to distance herself.
Her body simply moved instinctively during the night, tracing the farthest side of the mattress as though her emotions needed room to breathe.
When she finally stirred, she felt an arm slide slowly around her waist—firm, warm, undeniably possessive.
Michael didn’t sleep deeply; he never had. And the moment she shifted, he was awake.
“Good morning,” he murmured against her shoulder, his voice rough with sleep.
Marnie went still for half a breath.
She had forgotten how close they were.
How close he always wanted to be.
To her surprise, he loosened his arm sl
