Sandra POV
The woman in the mirror looked back at me and offered nothing.
From the other side of the door came the soft sound of a shirt being set down, and then silence, and then the quiet, deliberate click of a lamp being turned off.
And I understood, with a cold and absolute clarity, that whatever I had expected from this night, from this man, from this marriage—he had already decided none of it mattered.
I changed into the robe—soft terry, too large, smelling faintly of cedar and nothing personal. When I opened the door again the main bedroom light was dimmed to a single bedside lamp. Alexander stood near the bed in dark lounge pants and nothing else, shoulders squared, arms loose at his sides. He didn't speak. He simply extended one hand, palm up, an invitation that felt more like
