Milana stepped out of the shower, draped only in a short towel and a lingering cloud of steam. She huffed in annoyance when Ryder didn't even lift his gaze. There was a time when he couldn't keep his eyes—or his hands—off her, but things had changed.
He was leaning against the headboard in his boxers, his focus entirely on his laptop.
Swallowing her irritation behind a sweet mask, Milana sat beside him and gently pushed the laptop shut.
“Always working, no time for me,” she pouted. “You didn't even tell me how the meeting went yesterday.”
“Nothing special,” he replied shortly, setting the laptop on the nightstand.
Milana forced a glimmer of tears into her eyes, her lip trembling. “You’ve stopped loving me. You don’t share anything; you don’t trust me anymore. Tell me... do you regret
