The morning sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains, casting pale golden light across the bedroom. The air was warm, still heavy with the scent of last night—lavender from the bath, mixed with something entirely them now.
Ella stirred slowly, eyes fluttering open, disoriented for a moment before the weight of an arm draped over her waist anchored her back into reality.
Nicholas.
His hand was splayed protectively across her stomach, holding her against his chest, his body radiating heat along her back. The deep, even rise and fall of his breathing brushed warm air across her shoulder, stirring a mixture of butterflies and peace low in her belly.
For the first time in forever, waking up didn't feel like a battle.
She should've moved. She should've untangled herself, maybe gone to freshen up—but she didn't want to. Not yet. Not when he was holding her like this, like she was something treasured, something his.
