The air inside our bedroom felt heavier than it should. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the long trip back home. Maybe it was the tension that had been brewing between us ever since the honeymoon. Or maybe… maybe it was just him.
Christian.
And now, as I sat on the edge of the bed, brushing out my damp hair, I could feel his presence behind me—his gaze burning into my back.
“You’re still up?” his voice was low, rough from fatigue.
I set my brush down on the nightstand. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Christian exhaled, the sound deep and measured. I heard him move, the rustle of fabric as he loosened the buttons of his dress shirt. “You should try.”
I glanced over my shoulder, watching as he rolled up his sleeves. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast shadows over his sharp features, making hi
