Lily woke to the feeling of warmth. Sunlight was filtering through the gaps in the blinds, painting stripes of gold across the duvet. And she was warm because she was curled into Marcus's side, her head on his chest, her arm draped across his stomach. Sometime in the night, they had found each other.
She froze, not wanting to wake him, savoring the novel sensation. She could feel the steady, solid beat of his heart under her ear and the rise and fall of his breath. This was a side of him no one else saw. The powerful CEO, asleep, his face relaxed, his dark hair slightly mussed against the pillow.
She allowed herself to study him—the strong line of his jaw, the faint scar on his brow she'd never dared to ask about, and the surprising softness of his mouth. This was her husband.
As if sensing her gaze, his breathing hitched. His eyes fluttered open. For a split second, there was a flash of confusion, then a slow, dawning awareness that softened his features into something so tender it made her chest ache. His arm, which was draped around her, tightened slightly.
"Morning," he rasped, his voice thick with sleep.
"Morning," she whispered back.
They lay there for a long moment, suspended in the quiet intimacy. There was no urgency to move, to break the spell. It was a world away from the stiff, separate awakenings of their contract days.
"I have a 7:30 board briefing," he finally murmured, though he made no move to get up.
"And I have a 9:00 consultation with a new bride," she said, equally immobile.
Another minute of silence passed.
"We should get up," he said, not convincingly.
"We really should," she agreed, snuggling closer.
He laughed then, a low, sleepy sound that vibrated through his chest and into her. It was the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt. He pressed a kiss into her hair. "Five more minutes."
The five minutes turned into ten. Their first morning together had officially made them both late. And neither of them cared one bit.
When they finally did rise, the rhythm was easy and natural. They moved around each other in the bathroom, a silent dance of shared space. He handed her her toothpaste without her asking. She swatted his hand away from her hairbrush with a playful grin.
It was ordinary. It was miraculous.
Standing side-by-side at the double sinks, brushing their teeth, Lily caught his eye in the mirror. He looked… happy. Truly, unguardedly happy. And she realized, with a jolt, that she was, too. This fragile, new thing between them felt less like a risk and more like the safest place she'd ever been.