The electric clock on the nightstand clicked past seven-thirty.
Outside the bedroom window, the sounds of the city began to filter in, the distant blast of a horn, the fading wail of a siren, the low, steady rumble of a delivery truck, all reintroducing the mundane world they had briefly and fiercely escaped.
Abbie stirred first, her eyelids heavy. She stretched languidly, the motion pulling at muscles she hadn’t realized she possessed, leaving a delicious, aching weight in her hips and shoulders. She smiled, feeling both spent and strangely whole.
Rolling onto her side, she looked at Keith. His face, softened in sleep, was unguarded; a faint shadow of stubble dusted his jaw. A quiet, profound wave of affection washed over her. It wasn’t just physical contentment, it was something deepe
