When Daniel looked up from the kitchen doorway, his breath caught.
Marian stood at the end of the hallway, still damp from her shower, wrapped in one of his old T-shirts that hung loosely on her frame. Her hair was darkened with water, curling softly around her shoulders, the faint scent of soap and shampoo drifting toward him like a familiar memory he had carried for five years.
For a moment, he simply stared—afraid that if he blinked, she might disappear.
“Hi, love,” he said finally, his voice warm and easy, as if this moment hadn’t once been a dream he was afraid to wake from. “Let’s eat.”
He crossed the space between them in a few long strides and pulled her into his arms. She fit against him like she always had, as if her body remembered his before his mind ever stopped longing fo
