Sam finally shook his head, muttering something about women and family madness, and I couldn't help but chuckle quietly. Even in the chaos, even amidst the laughter, the questions, and the lingering embarrassment of newlywed life, my thoughts kept drifting back to her. Nita. My wife. Two weeks married and already the only thing that mattered in the world was her, her laughter, her warmth, her presence.
"Your guard told me you've been spending every night here instead of staying at the resort with your lovely wife," Sam said, his grin mischievous and infuriating as he wiggled his eyebrows.
"Sam, drop it. It's none of your business," I said through gritted teeth.
"Since when, blabbermouth? You get married and we don't tell each other stuff anymore?" Sam pressed, ignoring my glare completely. It was as if he thrived on my discomfort. His body leaned forward, eyebrows raised, as if he expected me to spill every sordid detail of my nights away from the resort.
