Chapter 89 Paradise

• The first light of dawn crept gently through the thin curtains, casting a soft, golden hue across the small room. Dust motes danced lazily in the air, and the ceiling fan spun in slow, sleepy circles above them.
• Emily stirred first.
• Her lashes fluttered open, and for a moment, she didn’t remember where she was. The bed beneath her was too firm, the sheets too plain, the air too still. But then she felt it—the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath her cheek. The warmth of an arm wrapped around her waist. The familiar scent of him—clean, faintly woodsy, and unmistakably Charles.