The first thingI notice when I wake up is the silence.
Not the peaceful kind—it’s the kind that feels too empty, like the air has been drained of life. The faint hum of the city drifts through the penthouse windows, muffled and distant, but in here, everything is still.
It’s a complete contrast to yesterday. Yesterday, I woke up in my childhood bedroom to the sound of birds, sunlight pouring across my bed, and the promise of a new beginning. Everything seemed so clear. Two years married to a beautiful woman—a chance to figure out the rest of my life.
Now? Clarity is a luxury I no longer have.
I don’t know what’s coming. I don’t know what to do. But I know this—Galeana Adele Monroe is mine. My Gale.
Mine.
The one person I can’t lose. Keeping her safe, making sure she’s okay—that’s all that matters now. She’s the only thing grounding me in a world that’s falling apart.
Everything else? It’s just noise.
I shift slightly, the sheets cool against my skin, and glance to my left. Galeana is curled up in the middle of the bed, her hair a wild mess against the pillow. The way the afternoon light filters through the curtains, catching in the dark waves, makes her look softer than usual—vulnerable, even.
It’s a strange sight, considering how fiercely she guards herself when she’s awake.
Her face is relaxed now, her breathing slow and steady, and for a moment, I wonder if she’s dreaming. Something good, I hope. God knows she deserves a break after what happened yesterday.
I sit up slowly, careful not to wake her. With a sigh, I drop my head into my hands. Last night didn’t go at all like I expected. I take a quick look back at her, still sleeping, and my thoughts start to spin.
It had taken forever to convince her to go to bed. She’d been stubborn, sitting on the couch, quiet, trying to avoid everything and seeking distraction all at once. I could see it in her, though, the fear. She didn’t want to sleep. Not because she wasn’t exhausted—she was—but because she was afraid.
Afraid of what? The explosion? The uncertainty? Or was it something deeper, something she wasn’t ready to say out loud?
It didn’t matter.
All I knew was that I had to get her to sleep. So I coaxed her—gently, carefully, the way Malerick used to talk me down when we were kids, hiding from Dad. I told her she’d be safe, that the penthouse was a fortress with top-of-the-line security. That nothing could touch her here. I wasn’t sure she believed me, not at first.
But eventually, she let me guide her to the bedroom.
Did I want another kiss? Another taste of her? Fuck yes. The urge was almost unbearable—to kiss her again, to pull her close, to chase away the fear and doubt flickering behind her eyes. But I held back.
Instead, I promised her she was safe. Even if I wanted so much more.
And now, here we are.
I glance at her again, something tightening in my chest. It’s like nothing about this woman works the way it’s supposed to.
The first time I met her, there was no one-night stand—just a single, unforgettable night that ended with her walking away before I even knew her name.
When she proposed marriage, it wasn’t about love or forever—it was business, a contract, a necessity.
And now, on our first night as husband and wife, we’d shared one kiss. Just one. And instead of fireworks, there was . . . quiet. Reassurance.
It’s not what I expected. Not even close.
Gale stirs slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips as her eyes flutter open. For a moment, she looks disoriented, her gaze flicking around the room before landing on me.
“Ledger?” she murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Morning,” I say, my voice quieter than usual. “Sorry if I woke you.”
She blinks a few times, sitting up slowly and pulling the sheets around her like armor. “What time is it?”
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. “Almost noon.”
