Morning came in slowly, the light slipping through the curtains in thin, quiet lines that stretched across the bed and settled against Matthew’s face.
Ava stirred first.
The habit had long settled into her bones—waking before him, easing into the day without noise, without disruption. But this time, something felt… off.
He hadn’t moved.
She turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on him. His arm lay heavy across the sheet, his breathing steady but deeper than usual, like he had sunk too far into sleep.
“Matthew…” Her voice came soft, careful not to startle.
No response.
She shifted closer, her hand lifting to touch his shoulder, fingers pressing lightly.
“Matthew,” she said again, a little firmer this time.
He stirred then, a faint groan slipping past his lips as his brows pul
