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Her Lingering Mark on Him
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2025-07-29 08:00:44CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE
It began with breakfast.A seat across from me. His sleeves still rolled up from coffee being poured. No words, not at first. Just a fork scraping against his plate, the steady sound of his chewing, and the weight of his gaze flicking toward me when he thought I wouldn’t notice.He never used to eat with me.Now, if his morning wasn’t suffocated with meetings or bloodshed, he stayed.He took his coffee the way I memorized it, black, two sugars, and I started making it before he even entered the room. I didn’t say a word. I simply placed the cup by his side, my fingers brushing the handle, then returned to my chair like the obedient wife I played.But he noticed.That was enough.And when he walked me to the car one morning, I made sure to lean in and press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Not rushed. Not flirty. Just soft. Familiar. Like it had always been ours.He didn’t speak
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