The sofa was far too comfortable. Ilaria could not even recall the moment sleep had stolen her.
After Marion brought her dinner last night, the warmth of the meal had settled deep in her stomach, heavy and drowsy, and she had only meant to rest for a while. But now, with the light of morning brushing through the curtains, she realized she had surrendered the entire night to slumber.
"Hhh...mmm...morning..." she yawned.
Ilaria stirred slowly, her lashes fluttering against the light that crept through the curtains. For a moment she did not know where she was, only that the air was quiet and heavy and that something warm brushed near her forehead.
When her eyes finally opened, the sight in front of her stole the breath from her chest. There, just inches away from her face, was her husband's, his cheek resting against the cushion like he had simply collapsed there.
