Amelia woke to the sound of her alarm, groggy and unsure when she'd even fallen asleep the night before. A quick glance at the other side of the bed told her everything—Asher hadn't slept there. And if he had, it wasn't for long.
She wasn't sure how to feel about that. Relief? Definitely. Sharing a bed with him would've been... complicated. But still, he hadn't even tried. And for some reason, that stung a little.
She brushed the feeling aside and got up. There was no need to overthink it.
She didn't bother putting in too much effort with her outfit today. Just a simple, fitted business suit. She had to stop by her company, so... why not keep it sharp? She tied her hair into a sleek ponytail, added a swipe of red lipstick, and the lightest touch of makeup. The moon necklace still rested gracefully against her chest, and she clipped on a silver watch to match.
Done.
She gave herself one last look in the mirror and smiled. Even with minimal effort, she always looked stunning. Perks of being naturally beautiful, she supposed.
As she headed downstairs, a delicious aroma wafted toward her. Cooking? That was... unexpected. Especially since she hadn't seen a single maid in the house yesterday.
Her first thought? No way. It couldn't be Asher.
But then again, it could.
She'd assumed he was already gone for the day. But clearly not. The scent grew stronger the closer she got, and when she finally turned the corner into the kitchen, there he was.
Asher Reed. Rolling up his sleeves, apron on, placing plates on the dining table like some kind of Greek god cosplaying as a husband.
He'd made bacon and eggs. Simple. Classic. Still shocking.
"Good morning, wifey," he said casually, as if they'd been doing this whole domestic thing for years.
"You can cook?" she blurted—more a statement than a question.
He flashed that infuriatingly calm smile she was beginning to hate. How did he always look so carefree, like the world wasn't a burning dumpster fire?
"I dabble," he said, clearly amused. "Now, are you going to come sit, or just stand there gawking? I know I'm breathtaking, but breakfast's getting cold."
Amelia rolled her eyes and made her way to the table, refusing to give him the satisfaction—even if, yes, she had been staring a little. Or a lot. But she'd take that secret to the grave.
"I wasn't gawking," she muttered.
"Whatever you say, wifey," he replied with a smirk.
She didn't dignify that with a response and focused instead on her food. Surprisingly good. Asher joined her a moment later, eating with the same casual ease that was becoming annoyingly attractive.
"You're going to work, right?" he asked between bites. "I'll drop you off."
She glanced up. "I can drive myself."
"I insist. Besides, if I can't drive my wife, who can?"
She didn't argue. What was the point? He wasn't going to change his mind, and honestly, part of her didn't hate the idea. Just a tiny part. A microscopic one.
Then she remembered something she'd meant to ask yesterday.
"Are we announcing the wedding?"
Asher looked up but didn't seem fazed. "Not for now. Eventually, we'll have to, especially if we're seen together. But for now, let's enjoy the peace and quiet. No media, no paparazzi. Just us."
She nodded. That, she could agree with. The thought of their marriage hitting the news sent shivers down her spine. Both of them were high-profile—if this went public, the internet would explode. And she was not in the mood for that chaos.
"Are you that eager for the world to know I'm yours?" Asher teased. "Don't worry, wifey, no one can take me from you."
She shook her head in exasperation. This man was unbelievable.
Asher chuckled, and she glanced at him without thinking. His laugh was... warm. Contagious. Annoyingly charming. And before she realized it, she was smiling.
"So, you do smile," he said, feigning shock. "You should do that more often. You look even more beautiful when you do."
Her heart skipped a beat.
What... was that?