Rosé stirred awake to the fading warmth of evening light seeping through the curtains. The scent of Alessandro’s cologne still lingered on the pillow beside her, and the feel of his body—strong, warm, protective, was curled tightly around her. She blinked slowly, adjusting to the golden haze washing over the room.
Alessandro’s arm was still draped around her waist, his breath steady against the back of her neck. She turned gently in his hold, and their legs tangled naturally. His face was peaceful, far too peaceful for the man she knew him to be.
She studied him, heart fluttering in her chest.
He was different today. Softer. Warmer. It wasn’t like him, not entirely. Alessandro De Luca didn’t cuddle. He didn’t linger in bed with his wife just because. He didn’t stay unless he wanted some
