Page 78 of The Billionaire's Wife

I drifted in and out, spending my conscious moments praying for God to work in our situation. I had to believe He’d brought Faith back to me on purpose. Not to take her away again, but so that we could be together forever.

My phone alarm woke me from a brief snooze. I reached over with one arm to turn it off, fully prepared to try to roll over and sleep for real, but Faith shifted, then stretched, then scooted to sit up.

“What time is it?”

The side of my body where she’d snuggled was cold now. I wanted to pull her back and snuggle under the covers with her. But there was no way she was ready for that. For that matter, I probably wasn’t either. We might have been married for fourteen years, but we were still new to this idea of making it real.

“Seven.” I sat up and tossed my legs over the side of the bed, then stood. Better to get up and face the day than to sit there with her, letting my mind wander. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“Megan wants to watch me open to make sure I know what I’m doing, so nine thirty. Ish.”

I nodded. “You’ll be off at five?”

“Yeah. That okay?”

“Absolutely. Mom wanted to come by, remember, and go furniture shopping?”

“Right.” Faith wrinkled her nose. “Just a little table, right?”

“You can get whatever you think we need. If you want to replace anything, do it. I’m not attached to any of the stuff in the condo. And I’ve had it all at least five years. Probably closer to ten on some of it.”

“I don’t…I like what you have.”

“We.” I looked at her. “We have it. Which means it should reflect you, too.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t look convinced, but I absolutely couldn’t get into that conversation until after a gallon of coffee and the world’s hottest shower. “I’m going to go make coffee if you want the first shower.”

“Okay.”

I frowned at her. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I’m just…adjusting.”

I chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll bring you coffee if it’s ready before you are.”

“Thanks.” She still hadn’t moved. But then, I didn’t remember her as a bouncy, early morning person.

She wasn’t a grump. She didn’t grunt or growl her way through the morning. But she hadn’t been one to spring out of bed with a smile and a song.

I almost laughed. Neither did I. Nor did anyone I knew.

I made sure the bedroom door latched behind me and yawned as I made my way to the kitchen. The coffee pot’s gurgle and rich aroma reached me as I stepped in.

“Morning, my baby.” Mom looked over from where she waited for the coffee. She was wearing the same pale green terrycloth robe she’d worn in the mornings for as long as I could remember. It couldn’t possibly be the same one, but she apparently replaced it with an identical twin whenever it wore out. She studied my face. “You slept poorly.”

“It happens.” I glanced at the coffee. “Is that ready?”

“Just about. Go sit down and I’ll bring you some.”

“Thanks.” I made my way around the island and sat. “Dad’s not up yet?”

“Nope. He’s still in there snoring like a lumberjack.” Mom laughed as she got down a second mug. “Honestly, this time I’m going to force the issue and make him do a sleep study. A CPAP would have to be better to listen to than that noise.”

I smiled. Mom had been threatening Dad with that for at least the last five years. “I’m surprised you haven’t already followed through on it.”

“Oh, well. He gets stubborn. Sometimes you have to pick your battles.”

---