CALISTA'S P.O.V
An hour passed.
He left me in here for sixty minutes. I tried to think of anything but him, yet my mind always wandered back. It didn't help that I was in his room, surrounded by his belongings.
I didn't know Roman - my husband well enough, but his bedroom had come as no surprise to me. It was exactly what I imagined it would be.
The king-sized bed sat in the center of the room, covered in black cotton sheets with a heavy charcoal throw folded neatly at the foot. Floor-to-ceiling windows, thick matte blackout curtains framed them. Dark oakwood panels trimmed the walls, and a large seascape oil painting hung high over the headboard.
Everything smelled faintly of Amber musk and leather, rich, dark, and unmistakably him.
An hour and fifteen minutes passed. I debated go
