Late night.I grabbed the thin dress I'd set aside and went to Leon Lowell's door.After the wedding, he said he didn't want to mess with my sleep and moved to the next room.Sounds sweet. Reality? Two weeks married and we hadn't even held hands.I pushed the door open.He'd just showered—his hair still dripping, a towel at the back of his neck. He stopped when he saw me on the bed."What are you doing here?"Flat. Always flat.I didn't answer. Just watched him.The robe hung loose—chest half-covered, faint abs, sharp nose, long fingers, clean lines.A face like that shouldn't disappoint anyone.Yet six months in, our marriage felt like a display case. Pretty. Empty.Not tonight.I was done waiting."I'm here to sleep," I said. "You there, me here—what's the point of being married?"I wanted an answer.He paused. His eyes moved over my dress. Two seconds."Fine."'That's it?'Now I was the one thrown off.He walked over. Calm, steady—but the air tightened anyway.O
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