11

The next morning, I woke up with puffy eyes and no Dalton beside me. I pouted at his absence and dragged myself out of the bed. As I stood before the mirror in our room, I snorted at my messy face.

"I look like a raccoon," I chuckled, making faces.

"Babe, come out for breakfast," Dalton called from the kitchen, I presumed.

"Coming," after quickly fixing my face to look decent, I paddled my way to the Kitchen and was greeted by the sight of a shirtless Dalton cooking breakfast for me.

I stopped dead in my tracks to admire his muscular frame slithering his way through the kitchen.

How did I get lucky to have him as my husband? I asked the question I ask myself daily. I must have saved a country in my last life to be gifted with such a precious man.

"What are you doing?" Dalton asked when he saw me leaning against the wall and looking at him.

"Admiring you….cooking," I added cooking after realizing I slipped and blurted out what I was thinking in my head.

"Alright," he said