A Wife For Seven Days
He collapsed into his chair, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
A soft knock sounded.
Before he could respond, the door opened slightly, and David stepped in.
Brothers not by blood, but by loyalty, by history, by everything they had survived together.
David’s face tightened the second he saw Xander’s posture.
“Hey,” David said carefully, stepping closer. “What’s wrong? Are you alright, bro?”
Xander shook his head—slow, tired—still rubbing his temple. “I’m fine,” he muttered.
But David wasn’t fooled. He sank into the chair across from him, leaning forward with concern etched into every contour of his expression.
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