the progression of Lena and Carson’s relationship,The next morning, sunlight spilled gently across the bed sheets, warming Lena’s skin. She stirred slowly, her eyes blinking open to the soft sounds of birdsong outside. For a moment, she didn’t move. Her head rested on a firm chest, and strong arms were loosely wrapped around her.Carson.Memories from the night before flooded back—his kiss, their whispered promises, the way his touch wasn’t rushed, but intentional. There was no contract between them last night. No roles to play. Just raw, vulnerable honesty.She tilted her head slightly to look at him. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady. For once, he looked peaceful—unburdened. Lena let herself savor it for a few more seconds before quietly slipping out of bed and pulling on a robe.Downstairs, the house was still. She padded to the kitchen, where the staff greeted her warmly.“Good morning, ma’am,” one of them said. “Would you like your usual tea?”“Yes, please,” she smiled.
The following week passed in a gentle blur. Lena resumed her duties at the Fendis design studio, pouring herself into sketching, observing Kenny, and bonding more with Abigail. Despite the whispers and side glances from other designers, Lena held her head high. With Carson’s quiet encouragement echoing in her mind and her own growing self-confidence, she had no time for insecurity.Kenny, as flamboyant and dramatic as ever, took Lena under his wing with surprising seriousness. “Darling,” he would say, flicking his pen with flair, “you have an eye. Raw, but promising. Just don’t let those background dancers in the studio steal your light.”Lena would laugh, shaking her head. “They’re talented too, Kenny.”“Yes, but this isn’t kindergarten. Everyone’s talented. You have to stand out.”Abigail, bubbly as ever, remained Lena’s closest ally in the studio. They shared lunch breaks and whispered jokes over fabric swatches. It felt… normal. And Lena hadn’t felt normal in a long time.But bene
The dining room of the O’Connell estate was large and exquisitely designed, with a chandelier casting a golden glow over the long mahogany table. Fine china was set in front of each chair, and the air smelled faintly of roasted duck and honey-glazed vegetables. Everything looked perfect—too perfect.Lena took her seat beside Carson, her spine straight, her eyes observant. Stephanie sat across from her, smugness dripping from every gesture. Mrs. O’Connell took the head of the table, her gaze cold but collected.Dinner began in silence, forks clinking lightly against porcelain.“So, Lena,” Mrs. O’Connell finally said, cutting through the stillness. “How is your position at Fendis? I hear you were given quite a high title for someone so new.”Lena smiled politely, already expecting the jab. “Yes, ma’am. Kenny believes in pushing talent early. I’m learning fast and contributing where I can.”“Interesting,” she replied, sipping her wine. “Back in my day, people worked for years before gett
The next morning, Lena woke up feeling slightly more rested than she had expected. She stretched and stared at the ceiling for a moment before rising from the bed. Despite the awkward encounter with Carson’s family the day before, she felt oddly calm—like something had quietly shifted.She moved to the window and drew back the curtains. Soft rays of sunlight bathed the room, warming her skin. She smiled faintly to herself. Maybe today would be different.After a quick shower, she made her way downstairs, expecting to find the dining room empty. But Carson was already there, dressed casually in a fitted polo shirt and slacks, sipping coffee as he read the morning paper on his tablet.He looked up as she entered. “Morning.”“Morning,” she replied, surprised by the softness in his tone.He gestured to the seat beside him. “Come eat. I had the kitchen prepare something you might like.”Lena sat down and glanced at the table. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, fruit slices, and fresh juice. Her hea
Lena sat quietly in the back garden of Carson’s estate, her hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea. The garden was peaceful this time of the morning, with birds chirping and soft sun rays piercing through the trimmed hedges. She needed this quiet—something to ground her emotions. Stephanie’s call still rang in her ears, every insult like a bruise she couldn’t hide.She hadn’t told Carson about the phone call. Not because she was scared, but because she didn’t want to burden him—again. He was already dealing with enough: his uncle’s betrayal, his family’s cold attitude, and now a wife who brought trouble wherever she went.Lena sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The early morning breeze kissed her skin, but even its freshness couldn’t clear her mood. Her phone buzzed beside her. It was Ella.Ella: “How’s married life, Mrs. O’Connell?”Lena managed a smile as she typed back.Lena: “Complicated. But I’m managing.”Seconds later, the phone rang. Lena picked it up immediately
Mr. Carson’s marriage to Lena had started as a contract—an agreement born out of circumstance, necessity, and emotional distance. But as days turned to weeks, something subtle yet undeniable began to shift between them. It wasn’t just about sharing a home anymore. It was about learning each other’s silences, softening at unexpected moments, and feeling emotions that neither of them had planned for.Lena noticed the change most in the quiet hours—in the way Carson now asked how her day went, how he remembered her favorite tea, or how he’d walk into a room just to sit with her, even if neither of them spoke. It wasn’t grand or dramatic. It was gentle, like a storm slowly calming into sunshine.By exactly 10:00 AM, while Lena was reviewing a fabric catalog in the studio office, her phone buzzed. It was an unsaved number. She hesitated. Her first instinct was to ignore it—probably a sales call, or worse, Richard again. But something told her to pick up.She swiped the screen reluctantly.