Meryl's POV
Gentle lips brushed against mine, pulling me from sleep with the softest touch. A familiar voice, rough with exhaustion, whispered against my mouth.
"Good morning, baby."
My eyelids fluttered open to find Andre standing beside our bed, a breakfast tray balanced in his hands. Something was wrong. Everything about him screamed fatigue - his damp hair fell messily across his forehead, his usually vibrant blue eyes appeared dull and heavy, and his entire presence seemed fragile, like he was barely holding himself together.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I glanced toward the window where bright sunlight streamed through the curtains. The light seemed too intense, too advanced for early morning. My gaze darted to the bedside clock and I gasped.
"Past ten?" My eyes went wide with shock. "God, I completely overslept."
I bolted upright so quickly that the covers tumbled away from my chest. This never happened. I was always up early, always on schedule.
