The morning after Sam's unexpected visit, I woke up feeling a mixture of emotions. The memory of last night's confrontation still lingered, but it was overshadowed by the warmth of Tom's presence beside me. We had fallen asleep on the couch, tangled in each other's arms, after talking late into the night.
I stirred, careful not to wake Tom, and gently extricated myself from his embrace. As I padded to the kitchen to start the coffee, I couldn't help but smile at the sight of him sleeping peacefully. Even with the faint bruise on his jaw from Sam's punch, he looked handsome and serene.
The smell of brewing coffee must have roused him because I heard his voice, still groggy with sleep, call out, "Stella?"
"In the kitchen," I replied softly. "Coffee's almost ready."
A few moments later, T
