Divorced at Midnight, Desired by Dawn
The penthouse was silent.
Not peaceful.
Silent.
There was a difference.
Peace had warmth in it. A sense that everything was finally okay.
This silence felt like something was waiting to break.
Marcus stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. His reflection stared back at him from the dark glass, but he barely recognized the man looking back.
He looked exhausted.
Older.
Broken.
The city sprawled beneath him, thousands of lights glittering through the early morning darkness. Cars moved along the streets. People hurried to work. Somewhere, restaurants were opening. Somewhere, people were laughing, drinking coffee, complaining about traffi