MATTEO
The next morning.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been awake. Long enough that the room had shifted from dark to grey, the early light creeping in at the edges of the curtains. Long enough to have done nothing but watch her.
Isabelle slept soundly, her face turned into my chest, her legs tangled with mine beneath the sheets. She looked peaceful in a way I hadn’t seen when she was awake — all the tension she carried gone from her expression, her breathing slow and even.
Before I could think better of it, my mouth pressed a light kiss to her forehead.
What the hell are you doing, Matteo?
Honestly? I had no idea.
This was supposed to be simple. Clear. A neat arrangement with terms that kept everything in its proper place. And yet here I was, having negotiated conditions I’d never ext
