LOGINEdwin’s POVThe house by the water had become the heartbeat of our new life.I woke slowly to the gentle rhythm of waves and the solid warmth of Daniel’s body curled around mine. His chest pressed firmly against my back, one arm draped heavily over my waist with his palm spread possessively across my stomach. His breath was steady and warm against the nape of my neck. For several long minutes, I simply lay there, letting the reality of this moment sink in no dread, no waiting for the next blow, just the quiet certainty that I was safe, loved, and exactly where I belonged.I turned carefully in his arms so I could face him. Daniel’s eyes were still closed, lashes dark against his cheeks, but the corner of his mouth curved upward like he could sense me watching. I traced the line of his jaw with one fingertip, feeling the light morning stubble. His eyes fluttered open, dark and warm, immediately softening when they focused on me.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough and intimate in that
Edwin’s POVThe house had stopped feeling like a beautiful escape and had become something far more powerful: home.I woke to the familiar warmth of Daniel’s body curled around mine, his chest pressed to my back, one arm draped heavily over my waist with his palm spread possessively across my stomach. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft golden patterns across the rumpled sheets. The distant sound of waves rolling onto the shore below provided the perfect backdrop — steady, constant, calming. For several long minutes I simply lay there, breathing in the scent of his skin and letting the reality of my life sink in.No more late-night dread. No more checking my phone for new accusations. No more wondering if today would be the day everything fell apart again.This was real.I turned slowly in his arms so I could face him. Daniel’s eyes were still closed, but the corner of his mouth curved upward like he could sense me watching. I traced the line of his jaw with
Edwin’s POVThe weeks after Santorini had settled into a rhythm that felt both brand new and deeply familiar. Mornings began with sunlight warming the wide bed and Daniel’s body curled protectively around mine. His arm was heavy across my waist, palm spread over my stomach like he needed the constant contact even in sleep. I had stopped waking up waiting for the other shoe to drop. The anxiety that used to greet me each day had quieted into something softer — occasional echoes rather than constant thunder.This morning was no exception.I turned slowly in his arms. Daniel’s eyes were still closed, lashes dark against his cheeks, but the corner of his mouth curved upward like he could sense me watching. I traced the line of his jaw with one fingertip, feeling the light stubble. His eyes fluttered open, dark and warm, immediately softening when they focused on me.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough and intimate.“Morning.”He pulled me closer without hesitation, sliding one thigh betwe
Edwin’s POVThe morning light in Santorini had been beautiful, but nothing compared to waking up in our house by the water with the knowledge that this was permanent. No more trial period. No more “until the dust settles.” This was home.I woke slowly, cocooned in warmth. Daniel’s body was pressed against my back, one arm slung heavily over my waist, his palm spread possessively across my stomach. His breath was steady and warm against the nape of my neck. For several long minutes I didn’t move, simply existing in the feeling of safety and love that still sometimes felt too good to be true.I turned carefully in his arms. Daniel’s eyes were still closed, but the corner of his mouth curved upward like he could sense me watching. I traced the line of his jaw with one fingertip, feeling the light morning stubble. His eyes fluttered open, dark and warm, immediately softening when they focused on me.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough and intimate.“Morning.”He pulled me closer without h
Edwin’s POVThe house by the water had stopped feeling like Daniel’s home and had become unmistakably *ours*.I woke slowly on a quiet Thursday morning, the kind where the world outside seemed to hold its breath. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, warming the rumpled sheets and catching on the faint red marks I’d left on Daniel’s shoulder the night before. His arm was heavy across my waist, palm spread possessively over my stomach, fingers splayed as if even in sleep he needed to remind himself I was still here.I turned carefully in his arms so I could face him. Daniel’s face was relaxed in sleep, the sharp CEO edges softened by the golden light. His dark lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks, and his lips were slightly parted. I traced the line of his jaw with one fingertip, feeling the light morning stubble. He stirred, a low hum vibrating in his chest before his eyes fluttered open — warm, dark, and immediately soft when they focused on me.“Morning,” he murmured, voice g
Edwin’s POVThe villa in Santorini had been a dream, but coming home felt like stepping into the rest of our lives.I stood on the wide deck overlooking the water, a mug of coffee warm in my hands, watching the early morning light paint the bay in soft golds and blues. Two days back from Greece and the house already felt fuller, more lived-in. Ruby’s laughter still echoed from the boat trip we’d taken the day before. Daniel’s clothes were mixed with mine in the closet. My books had found permanent shelves in the library. It no longer felt like I was a guest in someone else’s beautiful life. It felt like ours.The sliding door behind me opened. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Daniel. His arms slid around my waist from behind, chin resting on my shoulder as he pulled me back against his chest. He was still warm from bed, wearing only loose gray sweatpants.“You’re up early,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck.“Couldn’t sleep. Too happy, maybe.” I leaned int
Edwin’s POVThe hotel suite smelled of cedarwood, expensive linen, and the faint metallic edge of anticipation that always clung to Daniel’s skin when he was in this mood.He’d booked the entire top floor of the Meridian, three bedrooms, a private terrace overlooking the river, blackout curtains al
Edwin’s POVThe black SUV idled outside the hospital entrance like a patient shadow, headlights off, engine barely audible. I’d texted Daniel the moment the night nurse confirmed Mom was resting comfortably, no change, no crisis, just the slow, relentless march of morphine and oxygen keeping her af
Edwin’s POVThe fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor buzzed like a swarm of distant insects, too steady to ignore but too familiar to truly annoy. I leaned against the wall outside Mom’s room, arms crossed tight over my chest, staring at the scuffed linoleum tiles without really seeing them.
Edwin’s POVThe desk was massive, dark walnut, polished to a mirror sheen, wide enough that Daniel could have laid me flat across it without knocking over a single pen. Instead, he bent me over the edge, chest pressed to the cool wood, arms stretched forward until my fingertips brushed the far side







