Kolli
I couldn't sleep.
The ranch was too quiet. Too still. The kind of quiet that made your brain start replaying everything.
Danilo was asleep next to me. Finally. After an hour of tossing and turning and pretending not to think about tomorrow. About Dr. Otto. About the ultrasound.
He was on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes. The navy comforter was kicked down to his waist. Barefoot, like always. He'd kicked his boots off in the kitchen and hadn't put socks on since.
When he wasn't the billionaire, the CEO, the guy on the cover of magazines with the black cowboy hat and the tattoos and the look that said 'I own every room I walk into'...
When he wasn't that, he was just this.
Hair a mess. Dark curls falling over his forehead. The tattoos on his chest peeking out from under the collar of his old grey t-shirt. The chain he never took off, dull in the lamplight. His mouth soft when he slept. No edge. No armor.
My husband.
That word still felt weird sometimes.
