ᥫ᭡..∞

Selene Amora

Sky’s voice is the first thing I hear, low and teasing. “Darling, wake up.”

His low, teasing voice stirs me awake, followed by the brush of his lips against my forehead, soft and deliberate. As if he’s trying to coax me out of sleep without startling me. I stir, shifting under the warm sheets, but his kisses continue—a trail down to my temple, lingering as his hand cups my cheek.

I blink slowly, the haze of sleep fading as I realize I’m nestled against him. His warmth envelops me, familiar and intoxicating, and the faint scent of him—sweet and comforting—grounds me.

"Good morning," he murmurs again, though I know it’s nowhere near morning.

“Evening, love,” I correct, my voice still thick with sleep.

He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as his thumb strokes my cheek. “You’ve been asleep for hours, darling. You needed it.”

The gentle ache in my body reminds me why I feel so deliciously exhausted. Heat flushes my cheeks as the memory of earlier drifts back—the way his hands explored me, his touch unraveling me, how he let me take the lead before reclaiming it in a way only he could.

I stretch beneath the sheets, the soft fabric brushing against my skin. “I feel good,” I admit with a small smile, my voice laced with contentment. “Sore, but good.”

His eyes darken for a moment, a flicker of desire crossing his face, but it’s quickly replaced by something softer. “You were perfect, you are perfect,” he says, his tone reverent.

My heart flutters at his words, and I can’t help but tease. “Perfectly messy, maybe,” I murmur, running a hand through my hair, which I know must be a disaster.

Sky shakes his head, his lips quirking into a smile. “Messy, beautiful, divine,” he counters, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

The tenderness in his gaze steals the air from my lungs, the kind of love in his eyes that feels too vast to contain. I let the words spill, unfiltered and vulnerable. “I love being married to you, love,” I whisper, my voice catching. “It’s like… in every lifetime, I’d find myself praying for someone like you. And now that I have you, it feels like all my prayers—every single one—were answered in you.”

His breath hitches, his hands trembling slightly as they cradle my face, grounding me in a way only he can. His voice is low but carries a weight that makes my heart ache. “Darling,” he begins, his tone reverent, as if he’s afraid his words won’t be enough. “Then keep praying. Keep praying, because I’ll spend my whole life trying to be worthy of every whispered wish, every hope you’ve ever had. I love you.”

His thumb brushes away a tear I didn’t even realize had slipped down my cheek, his own eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “You’re the grace I never thought I deserved—the answer to a prayer I never dared to ask. And I will never stop thanking God for you.”

The warmth of his words fills me, and all I can do is hold him close, tears spilling as he brushes them away. Before I can respond, his lips find mine—slow, reverent, a kiss that feels like a promise etched into my soul.

I melt into him, my hands anchoring over his shoulders, but just as the kiss deepens, he pulls back with a soft chuckle, his forehead resting gently against mine.

“As much as I’d love to continue this,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my lips, “you need to eat. And your medicine.”

I pout, jutting my bottom lip out in exaggerated protest. “I’m not hungry. You’re my food now,” I argue, though my stomach betrays me with a low, unmistakable growl.

Sky’s grin widens, smug and thoroughly entertained. “Your tummy doesn’t seem to agree, darling,” he teases, brushing his nose against mine. “Now, be good and let me take care of you.”

Before I can object, he reaches for my pink tumbler from the bedside table, holding it out with a playful flourish. “Here, Amora. Drink first.”

I blink at him, narrowing my eyes in mock offense. “Amora? Really?” My lips twitch, fighting back a grin. “Why are you calling me that? I didn’t even do anything… yet.”

Sky chuckles, his voice rich with amusement as he leans closer. “Because you’re being impossible,” he teases, his grin softening. “But don’t worry, darling—it’s always darling forever for you.”

I grab the tumbler, still feigning indignation. “You better stick to that, mister. Amora makes me sound like I’m scheming.”

He laughs, warm and indulgent, as if my persistence is his favorite thing about me. “Aren’t you, though?”

I roll my eyes, taking a sip through the straw. The icy chill catches me off guard, and I blink at him, caught between surprise and delight. “Oh! It’s cold?” I mumble, trying to sound accusatory, though the small smile tugging at my lips betrays me.

He leans in, his gaze softening as his thumb brushes gently over my cheek. “Of course it’s cold. Knowing you better than I know myself is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

I squint at him, pretending suspicion, though my tone is full of teasing affection. “You’re suspiciously good at this, love.”

“Husband instincts,” he murmurs, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingertips lingering as if reluctant to let go. His voice dips, warm and teasing, yet earnest enough to make my heart stutter. “Now, be good and finish it, darling. Every version of you steals my heart, but the one that’s happy and cared for? That’s the one I’ll spend my life spoiling.”

I can’t hide the smile tugging at my lips, my chest warming at his words. “Fine,” I relent softly, taking another sip as his gaze stays fixed on me, equal parts amused and adoring.

Sky watches me, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes, before tucking the blankets snugly around me. “How marvelous you look, good job, Teacher Selene,” he murmurs, his voice low and indulgent, his teasing tone sending heat rushing to my cheeks.

“Stop,” I mumble, blushing furiously as I hide behind the tumbler.

As he leans in to press a soft kiss to my forehead, my hand darts down, slipping past the waistband of his sweatpants to stroke his growing bulge.

He stiffens immediately, a strangled sound escaping his throat. “Selene Amora!” His voice is half-scolding, half-begging, and entirely satisfying.

I bite my lip, my innocent smile anything but. “What? Just a little surprise, love. You always say I’m full of them.”

Sky exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face in mock defeat. “Behave, darling,” he mutters, his tone low but amused. He gently removes my hand, tapping it lightly. “Naughty,” he chides, before lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.

Before I can react, he scoops me up in a firefighter hold, making me squeal. “Skylier!”

He strides toward the bathroom with purpose, his chuckle warm and indulgent. “You’re far too cheeky tonight, my darling. Time for a quick rinse.”

Once we reach the bathroom, he sets me on my feet in front of the sink, nudging me gently. “Wash your hands, troublemaker,” he says, his voice mock-stern but his grin unmistakable.

I huff but obey, sticking my hands under the faucet. “Happy now?” I tease, shaking the water off my fingers dramatically.

He catches my wrist mid-motion, pressing a kiss to my damp palm. “Very,” he murmurs, his tone softer now.

I giggle, starting to protest. “Love, I’m not a—”

“—but you are my baby,” he interrupts smoothly, his grin both teasing and affectionate as he kisses my knuckles again.

I roll my eyes playfully, but the warmth in his gaze melts any retort I might have had.

As I finish washing my hands, I wiggle playfully against him, deliberately brushing against his bulge. His sharp intake of breath is almost comical, and I can’t help but grin up at him.

“Selene,” he warns, his tone low and strained, though his fingers tighten ever so slightly on my hips.

I tilt my head innocently. “What? Just testing how much you love me,” I tease, wiggling again, knowing full well what I’m doing.

Sky groans, dragging a hand through his hair as though I’m testing every ounce of his patience. “Amora, you’re impossible.”

I bite my lip, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Love, let’s christen the bathroom too.”

He immediately hushes me, his fingers lightly tapping my bum before giving it a playful squeeze. “Shh, shh, shh,” he mutters, as though trying to silence the very thought. His cheeks are tinged red, and I laugh softly, delighted at the sight of him flustered.

Without another word, he scoops me back into his arms and strides out of the bathroom, determined. “You’re too much, my darling,” he murmurs, his tone exasperated but affectionate as he carries me back to the bed.

Gently setting me down, he tucks the blanket around me like I’m a mischievous child in need of containment. “Now rest,” he orders, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

As he heads for the door, he pauses, throwing me a look that’s equal parts stern and teasing. “I’ll bring dinner up here, little troublemaker. Don’t start plotting while I’m gone. I’m serious, darling—dinner and medicine first. Please.”

I blow him a kiss, smirking as he shakes his head with a fond smile before disappearing down the hall.

The door closes behind him, but not before I catch the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. Smug, satisfied, and completely in love—I’d call that a win.

As he leaves, I sink back into the pillows, my heart full. Even in the smallest moments, he has a way of making me feel cherished, loved beyond measure.

And as I wait for him to return, I know one thing for certain—there will never be a day when I wake up unloved.

Because with Sky, I am not just wanted.

I am treasured.

The memory of why I needed rest settles in, warm and unrelenting. My cheeks flush as a quiet laugh threatens to escape, but I swallow it back, grateful no one is here to see how vivid my thoughts have become.

The house back home, the car, the jet… and now here. Each moment feels etched into me—not just into my body, but deep into my soul, like a melody composed for just the two of us. A rhythm only we understand, resonating with a divinity that makes me feel both small and infinite all at once.

Thank You, Lord, I think, the prayer weaving through me like a melody only my soul can hear. For his strength, his care, his love. Skylier—my answered prayer, yet so much more than I dared to ask for. Sometimes it undoes me—the quiet kindness in his every gesture, the way he loves me with a depth that feels undeserved, overwhelming in its sweetness. He’s not just the prayer I whispered in longing; he’s the abundance of a God who knows the words I could never say. Sky isn’t just what I asked for—he’s grace in its purest form. A gift not earned, but freely given, as if Heaven looked down and said, this one’s for you.

It isn’t just the love we share—it’s the way he makes me feel wanted. The way his gaze never wavers, as if he’s trying to absorb every part of me into himself. The way his hands linger, not to claim me but to cherish me. It’s not just the fire he ignites, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t adore the way he touches me, igniting flames I never thought could burn so brightly. But it’s the gentleness, too—the care he wraps around me like a quiet hymn. Every glance, every kiss, every moment feels deliberate, like a love letter written without words.

How could something so intensely physical carry this sense of sacredness, of divinity?

The thought teases at me, stirring a soft smile. It’s almost amusing—how prim and proper I once was, thinking of love and intimacy in neat, structured boxes. And now, here I am, standing in the fullness of what God intended for marriage: a connection so intimate it feels like worship. Maybe it’s perfect because it comes from Him—because this design of husband and wife, of bodies and souls intertwined, is His handiwork. Sky isn’t just my husband; he’s my God-given best.

A shy smile tugs at my lips as I recall how he glances at me, my heart always skipping a beat when I catch the way he looks at me. Not like I’m some puzzle he’s trying to solve—no, Sky’s devotion is far too steady for that. It’s as if I’ve been graced with my own cherubim, a love so tireless and unwavering that it humbles me. Like the cherubim who never tire of worshipping God, Sky never seems to tire of pouring his love out for me. Whether it’s the way he remembers every little thing I say or how his hands linger just a moment longer than necessary, it’s as though his very existence is to love me. And somehow, he makes it feel like a privilege rather than a duty.

I marvel at him, at the quiet strength and unshakable patience that seems to pulse through him, and I can’t help but wonder: How do I ever give back even a fraction of what he offers me? My thoughts flicker playfully as I think of how I might unravel him next—not because I feel I owe him, but because I want to. There’s a delight in knowing I can give him something no one else can. That this love, this bond, is ours alone.

Gratefulness roots me even as my thoughts take flight. Thank You, Lord, for his patience, his unwavering love, and the quiet strength that steadies me. Thank You for the gift of marriage, for this sacred space where we can love without fear or reserve. Thank You for the joy that makes me feel like a girl again, giddy and full of wonder. And for the promise that reminds me I am a woman, created and meant for him.

The thought sparks a quiet resolve in me, a promise whispered in my heart: I’ll love him well. Always. I’ll honor this gift, this man You’ve given me, with everything I am.

And then there’s that flicker of playful curiosity again, that soft wonder I only feel around him. Because just when I think I’ve uncovered every layer of love and intimacy, he reveals a new depth I never imagined. And I realize—I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface. I can’t wait to discover more.

The soft clink of plates pulls me from my thoughts. I glance up to see Sky walking in, a tray balanced carefully in his hands. He’s barefoot, his sleeves rolled up casually, and his hair slightly mussed like he’s been busy—but the sight alone makes my chest tighten. Not from my heart, but from the overwhelming wave of affection that threatens to bowl me over.

He is just so good at loving me. I am pampered in everything, and I can’t help but wonder—maybe love language isn’t even enough to describe what I’ve been receiving with my husband. Is that even possible?

“Dinner is served, Mrs. Guzman,” he announces, his voice warm and teasing as he sets the tray down on the small table by the window. The space is cozy, with soft lighting casting a golden glow on the plush chairs he’s arranged like it’s some intimate date night. Everything is perfect, even though it’s just the two of us.

I sit up a little straighter, my heart fluttering as his eyes meet mine. They hold a look I can only describe as tender devotion. “What did you bring me?” I ask, trying to keep the smile off my face but failing miserably.

He grins, that boyish charm of his making me melt instantly. “Nothing too fancy. Just something to make sure my wife doesn’t sneak into the kitchen and raid the pantry later.”

Before I can respond, he strides over and scoops me up effortlessly, pulling a squeal of laughter from me. My arms loop around his neck as he spins us gently. “Husband subscription still active, darling,” he teases, his nose brushing mine before he sets me down carefully, kissing my forehead.

I giggle, my cheeks warm. “And here I thought my trial period was over.”

“Lifetime membership,” he replies smoothly, his voice soft but full of that quiet intensity that always leaves me a little breathless.

As he settles me into the chair, fixing the edges of my robe like he can’t resist taking care of every detail, the scent of the food draws my attention. There’s grilled salmon, its edges crisp and golden with a light lemon-dill glaze, a vibrant array of roasted vegetables—zucchini, carrots, and cherry tomatoes that gleam with olive oil—and a bowl of quinoa topped with pomegranate seeds and herbs. Beside it, a cool cucumber and avocado salad adds a refreshing touch.

“Love…” My voice comes out soft as I take it all in. “This is—”

“Heart-healthy,” he interrupts, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple. “And delicious. I checked. Twice. You can put the carrots aside if you must, but I dare you to eat at least three.”

I laugh, the sound spilling out before I can stop it. He slides a glass of water closer, my medicine sitting neatly beside it. “You thought of everything,” I murmur, my chest warming in that familiar way he always manages to evoke.

“Of course I did,” he says, pulling out the chair across from me and settling in. “You’re my wife now. But even before that, keeping you healthy was part of the job description.”

I bite my lip, trying to hide my smile. “And what about keeping me happy?”

“That,” he says, his voice dipping low, his gaze locking on mine, “is my life’s mission and purpose.”

I feel my cheeks flush, but before I can respond, he leans over and kisses me tenderly. It’s not rushed or teasing; it’s the kind of kiss that speaks volumes without a single word. When he pulls back, his fingers brush my cheek, and he smiles before returning to his seat.

“Eat first,” he says gently, taking my hand in his. His thumb strokes my knuckles, his touch steadying. “You need your strength, darling. Who knows how much rest I’ll let you get tonight?”

“Sky!” I gasp, swatting at him, though I can’t hide the giddy laugh bubbling up. “But seriously, love… you let me have it rough?”

His chuckle is deep, rumbling, and so thoroughly Sky it makes me melt. “Darling, food first. Please. Focus.”

I roll my eyes playfully but oblige, taking a bite. The flavors are light yet rich, and I can’t help the small hum of approval that escapes me.

“Yummy?” he asks, his voice holding a teasing lilt.

I nod, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s delicious… but I don’t think you cooked this, love. Something’s different.”

Sky laughs, leaning back slightly. “You caught me. I didn’t. I called in someone to help since I was busy…”

“Busy with what?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously.

His grin softens as he leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Putting our clothes in the walk-in closet. I know you don’t like anyone else doing it, so I did it myself.”

My heart stutters, and I have to swallow before speaking. “You did that for me?”

“Of course I did,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I look down at my plate, guilt blooming in my chest. “It’s like I’m not doing any wife duties at all, love. I’m sorry…”

Sky doesn’t hesitate. He reaches across the table, covering my hand with his. “Oh, darling,” he begins, his voice both playful and firm. Leaning back, he tips his head slightly and points to his neck, where faint love bites are still visible. “Do you see these?”

My cheeks flush instantly. “I—”

“These,” he continues, smirking, “are more than enough proof that my wife has been very diligent with her ‘duties.’ If anything, I’m the one who should be apologizing. How am I supposed to survive a lifetime membership when you’ve already spoiled me rotten?”

I burst out laughing, the earlier guilt melting away. “Skylier, you’re impossible.”

He grins, squeezing my hand. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, darling. Just be you and love me. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away, managing a shy smile. “I love you,” I whisper.

His foot nudges mine under the table, and his warm laughter fills the space like sunlight. “I love you more, Selene Amora Fernandez Guzman” he says softly, his gaze steady and unwavering.

After a beat, he gently tugs my hands away from my lap. “In all seriousness,” he says, his tone softening, “there’s no such thing as ‘duties’ with us. You’re my wife, not a checklist. Just being with you is more than enough. Everything else? That’s just… extra.”

He leans closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. “But the extras? The way you love me, touch me, and share yourself with me… that’s not just extra, Selene. That’s everything. You make it sacred—special in a way no one else ever could.”

My heart twists, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes again. “You always know what to say,” I murmur, my voice trembling slightly.

“That’s because it’s true,” he replies, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “And if I ever hear you apologizing for something like this again…” His grin turns mischievous as he leans in, lowering his voice. “I’ll have no choice but to kiss you breathless until you take it back.”

I laugh, shaking my head at him, but the heaviness in my chest has completely melted away. “I love you,” I say again, the words carrying more weight this time.

His gaze softens, his smile reaching his eyes. “I love you,” he says simply, then leans closer, lowering his voice with mock seriousness. “But no, darling, you can’t have sweets after this meal.”

I let out a dramatic sigh, my lips curling into a grin. “Fine! I’m fine with kisses instead. And maybe… more.”

Sky’s laugh warms the air between us as he tugs me closer, brushing a reverent kiss across my knuckles. “Now that, my darling, is a request I could spoil you with forever. But to do that, we need to keep you healthy, right? So we can have forever… and even longer together. I need you by my side for as long as time allows, and then some.”

His voice softens, dipping into a prayer that feels like a sacred whisper meant only for God. “Lord, if it’s not too much to ask, let me have her—this love, this gift You’ve given me—over and over again, in this life and the next. Please, grant her the strength to care for herself, to stay well, not just for her but for us. She is my heart, my reason, and I can’t bear to lose her. Keep her strong, Lord… for me, for forever.”

His words—so tender, so full of love and faith—make my chest tighten with emotion. My heart feels impossibly full, fluttering in a way that only he can make it.

“You always know how to make me listen,” I whisper, my voice tinged with awe as a smile tugs at my lips.

He gazes at me, his eyes steady and unwavering, as though this vow has been etched into his soul a thousand times—and he’s ready to make it a thousand more. “And I always will,” he says softly, his tone resolute yet tender. “Because I love you too much to do anything less.”

Before I can reply, he leans in and kisses me—a touch so warm, it steals my breath and leaves me wordless. As he pulls back, a playful smirk dances on his lips. “Now, please eat your food, my highness,” he murmurs, his voice laced with affection.

Sky watches as I polish off the last bite of my meal, the carrots still untouched, like prisoners on a plate awaiting execution. His chuckle is warm, teasing, and entirely too smug. “Not even one, darling? You’re really leading this anti-carrot rebellion, aren’t you?”

I scrunch my nose at him, matching his playfulness. “Carrots are the traitors of the vegetable world, love. Acting innocent with that bright orange façade, but I see through them.”

He laughs, shaking his head like he’s given up on my reasoning. But then his tone shifts—curious and amused—as he pulls something from his pocket: a small circle of beads, dangling between his fingers like a mystery. “Darling, I trust you with everything… but this? This looks like something from a detective show. Care to explain this custom cycle bead system, please?”

Feigning exhaustion, I lean back in my chair, dramatically draping my arm over my eyes. “Love, I’m far too tired for biology lessons right now.”

Sky arches an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Should I just call Mom, then? She’d explain it faster anyway.”

The mention of my mom has me bolting upright so fast I almost knock over my plate. “Mom? Oh my gosh—did she call? I didn’t even send her a message, love! Where is my phone?”

“Careful, Selene,” he says, chuckling softly as I scramble for my phone. His warm hand brushes mine, grounding me with a touch that instantly eases my fluster.

Sky’s amusement deepens as he slides my phone toward me. “She did call,” he admits. “I told her you were sleeping. Jet lag, darling. She understands.”

My fingers fly over the screen as I type a frantic reply, guilt pushing me to send a long-winded message about time zones and being too busy. Sky leans casually over my shoulder, reading as I type.

“FaceTiming Mom?” he teases, his voice light but mischievous.

“Maybe,” I mutter, distracted. But his next words pull me right back.

“Darling, maybe let’s change first.”

I blink, confused, until I catch the way his gaze dips to my neck. It takes a moment, but then I feel it—warmth spreading over my skin as realization hits. My fingers brush over the marks on my collarbone, and I bite my lip to keep from groaning.

“Oh,” I mumble, dragging out the word as I stare at him. “That’s… fine. I’ll just audio-call Mom, love.”

Sky’s smirk turns downright devilish. Before I can escape, he sweeps me into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Sky!” I squeal, laughter bubbling up as I cling to his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you, darling,” he replies smoothly, his tone dripping with affection. “Let’s get you dressed before Mom sees the evidence of how much I adore you.”

“You mean undressed,” I shoot back, tugging lightly at the tie of my robe with a grin. “I think I look better that way.”

His lips brush against mine, the kiss so soft it’s like a whisper. “You look beautiful always, darling,” he murmurs, his voice tender yet playful. “But you don’t know how much willpower it took me to put something on you earlier.”

My smile falters as his words sink in, heat rushing to my cheeks like wildfire. I remember it now—lying naked on the sofa, sunlight streaming in through the glass walls, and a snowy backdrop framing me. Broad daylight. Glass walls. And what if the wolves outside—

I shake the thought away, tilting my head at Sky with a teasing glint in my eye. “Well, I don’t mind being naked around you,love,” I say, my voice dripping with mischief. “I think I wear it best.”

Sky’s gaze darkens, his smile slow and knowing. “You wear it too well, darling,” he says, his grip on me tightening ever so slightly. “But if I let you flaunt it now, we’d never leave this room.”

His confession sends my heart racing, but desire tempts me to push back. “Then let’s not leave, love. We could try—”

“You were sleeping,” he interrupts, his voice soft as his thumb grazes the edge of my robe. “I didn’t want you to wake up cold.”

Warmth spreads through me as I press my forehead against his shoulder, laughing. “I guess I owe you one, then?”

Sky smirks, far too smug for my liking. “I’ll happily take repayment if it involves helping you change before you FaceTime Mom.”

“Fine,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “But only because I’m generous.”

“And because you don’t want your mom to see the love bites,” he teases, his grin so smug it’s criminal.

I gasp softly, my fingers flying to the collar of his shirt, where faint evidence of my earlier handiwork peeks out. “Sky!” I whisper, my cheeks blazing. “She’d think I’m…” My voice falters, and I glance down shyly, biting my lip.

He leans closer, his lips brushing my temple as he murmurs, “What? Married?” His voice is warm, playful, and maddeningly tender.

I huff, tugging at the neckline of his long-sleeved shirt as if to hide the marks. “Still,” I mumble, smoothing the fabric over the spot. “A proper lady doesn’t… flaunt such things.”

His hand cups my jaw, tilting my face toward him as his thumb strokes my cheek with infuriating gentleness. “Proper lady,” he repeats, his tone soft and affectionate. “Darling, I love every part of you—the sweet, demure grace, the prim and proper elegance… and the playful spark you keep just for me.”

The sincerity in his words stirs something in me, but the mischievous glint in his eyes sparks a grin of my own. “You love that spark, hmm?” I murmur, my voice teasing and low.

Before he can respond, I press a soft kiss to the faint love bite on his neck. I feel him tense, his breath catching, but I don’t stop. With deliberate slowness, I suck gently at the spot, my teeth grazing his skin just enough to deepen the mark.

“Selene,” he groans, his hands gripping my waist as his head tilts back. His voice is strained, his composure slipping.

I pull back, feigning innocence as I lightly trace the fresh mark with my fingertip. “What?” I whisper sweetly, tilting my head. “You said you love my spark. Consider this… a little reminder.”

His eyes flutter shut for a moment before he lets out a low groan, his hands tightening at my waist. “Darling, Selene Amora,” he breathes, his voice thick with exasperated adoration, “please.”

I giggle, settling back into his arms, my head resting against his chest. “I’ll take that as a thank you,” I say softly, smoothing his shirt down over the fresh love bite as if trying to ‘help.’

Sky lets out a heavy sigh, though his arms stay wrapped around me like he can’t bear to let me go. “You’re impossible,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against my hair.

“Impossible?” I repeat, smiling up at him, my tone teasing. “That’s just another thing you love about me, isn’t it?”

His gaze softens, his fingers brushing against my cheek. “Selene,” he says quietly, his voice steady and filled with devotion, “I don’t just love that about you. I love everything. Every glance, every touch, every bit of sweetness, grace, and mischief. Even the scandalous parts that leave me completely undone.”

My cheeks burn under his intense gaze, but before I can reply, he leans down and captures my lips in a kiss so soft yet consuming, it leaves no room for doubt: he’s hopelessly and entirely in love with me.

When he pulls back, his chest rises and falls as though he’s trying to catch his breath. I stifle a laugh, tilting my head as I study him. “Love,” I tease, biting back a grin, “are you… okay? You look—” I pause, my lips quirking mischievously, “—handsome, but funny. Like you just ran a marathon.”

He exhales sharply, his hands braced firmly at my waist as if to steady himself. “That’s what you do to me, darling,” he mutters, his tone caught between a groan and a chuckle. “You leave me breathless and ridiculous. Happy now?”

I laugh softly, brushing my fingertips lightly over his shirt, smoothing the imaginary wrinkles I’d caused. “Very,” I reply sweetly, letting the playful triumph in my smile linger.

As he sets me down, the teasing fades. My gaze falls on the closet—rows of soft pastels, delicate lace, and fabrics so unmistakably me. My fingers brush over the hangers, and the reality of it hits me. I didn’t pack any of this. I didn’t buy a single one, and yet these are all to my liking.

God just graces me with a very loving, thoughtful husband.

The lump in my throat grows as I realize the care behind every detail. It’s more than just clothes—it’s how well he sees me. How much thought he’s poured into every choice.

“Hey, hey, darling—what’s wrong?” Sky’s voice is soft, his hands cradling my face as his thumbs brush away the tears pooling in my eyes.

I meet his gaze, my voice trembling. “I love you.”

Relief softens his expression, and he exhales. “Darling,” he murmurs, steady and warm, “I’d do it all a thousand times over. For you. Always.”

The sincerity undoes me, tears spilling despite my best efforts. He leans in, kissing the corner of my lips as though sealing a promise.

“I still don’t like you crying, even if they’re happy tears,” he whispers, his voice teasing but tender. “Now, let’s get you ready before you make me forget all my good intentions.”

I find myself standing before the rows of delicate fabrics in our walk-in closet, my fingers gliding over lace-trimmed lingerie in shades of black, pink, white, and sinful red—all so unmistakably me. There’s a touch of my personality in every piece, but I know better. He didn’t just buy these for me; he bought them for himself, too, and the thought makes my lips twitch into a shy, knowing smile.

Each piece feels like a secret love note, chosen with an attention to detail that’s almost too much for my heart to handle. Sky pays attention to everything—the colors I favor, the styles I adore—and clearly, he even remembers how Alexa gave me a lingerie set last Christmas, teasing me endlessly about being a “newlywed.”

I glance over my shoulder at him, catching his shy smile, like he’s been caught red-handed. Huh. I knew it. My grin grows as I pick up a particularly intricate pink set, holding it up for inspection. Easy access, huh? All right, I’ll give you all the access, Skylier.

“You really shouldn’t have, love,” I murmur, turning to face him fully with the pink set still in hand, a teasing grin lighting up my face. “I could just go around naked, you know. I wouldn’t even mind the cold—you make me feel so warm.”

His brow arches, and that slow, knowing grin spreads across his face, his eyes darkening ever so slightly. He doesn’t respond right away, and the silence only spurs me on.

With deliberate ease, I place the lace back onto its hanger and let my robe slip from my shoulders, pooling softly at my feet. I meet his gaze, my cheeks flushed but my voice steady. “Have a feast, love.”

Sky exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as his eyes sweep over me, his expression caught between amusement and something much more primal. But then he lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as though to snap himself out of it. “Facetiming Mom, darling,” he says, his voice thick with amusement. “Focus. Mom’s waiting—you said you’d call.”

I freeze mid-step, his words hitting me like a bucket of cold water. “Oh no!” I gasp, scrambling to scoop up my robe and wrap it tightly around me. My face feels like it’s on fire as panic sets in.

The time difference—how could I forget? I internally groan. Oh my God, I’m sorry, Mommy! Did I just make my mom wait? I did text her I would call just five—no, ten?—minutes ago? A fresh wave of dread floods me. What if she’s sitting there, wondering, ‘What could my daughter possibly be doing?’

Oh my God, Mommy! I press my lips together, trying not to laugh or die of embarrassment at my own thoughts. It’s not like I can tell her I’ve been… occupied! But I’m married now—Mom should understand! Right? Then, unbidden, Tita Faye’s private message flashes in my mind: “Make lots of babies in the snow, Amora! Let your mommy be, I’ll visit her often, sweetie 😉”

I can’t even process her words without my cheeks burning hotter. Why would she even say that? And right after we ditched the reception! Now I can’t open any of her messages—or my friends’—without feeling like they’re all in on some inside joke. Still… oh my God, Mommy, focus!

Sky’s laughter pulls me out of my spiral, warm and utterly unrestrained. He steps forward, his arms looping around me effortlessly as he kisses the top of my head.

“Yes, ‘Oh no!’” he teases, his voice brimming with love. His embrace tightens as he whispers against my hair, “I love you, Selene Amora. Every bit of you.”

I bury my face in his chest, torn between laughing and wishing I could evaporate. But his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his arms remind me that no matter how flustered I feel, I’m undeniably adored, cherished, and loved like no other.