I heard the sound of the door opening and gritting my teeth because it annoys me when people enter my office without knocking.
I looked up to see a relaxed Rebecca in one of my T-shirts and joggers. She's also wearing sneakers, and if she weren't delicate like a princess, I bet she'd wear mine too.
Despite having her hair down in those beautiful waves and wearing makeup, she's not the Rebecca from this morning who was sitting at breakfast in an elegant black dress.
She still looks beautiful, there's no doubt about that, but I don't understand why she's wearing those clothes. My clothes.
"I'm almost done organizing our wardrobe." She stops in front of the desk and looks at her things to my left. She raises an eyebrow and looks back at me. "I'm halfway through."
"Why are you wearing my
