Elena's POV
It had been three weeks.
Three long, tension-filled, soul-twisting weeks since the glimpse since he walked into the bedroom and saw me… bare. Uncovered. Vulnerable.
And I hadn't been the same since.
Every time I saw him, I felt my body burn with mortification. Every interaction, every glance, was colored by that moment.
He hadn't mentioned it every since I told him not to and I wised he pestered to to so .
But that was somehow worse.
He was polite. Distant. Cordial. We communicated like two executives sharing floor space not like a married couple. Not like people who had once shared the same bed, the same table, the same silences.
I cursed myself every day.
Why had I gone to the main bedroom?
Why didn't I lock the door?
Why didn't I just wait five more minutes before stepping out of my clothes?
Every night since, I had stayed in the guest room.
He didn't ask me why. He didn't come knocking. He didn't press.
