Ethan paused.
Didn't move.
Then reached down and grabbed the door handle, opening it slowly.
And there she was.
The cheongsam was gone.
Her pale skin was visible again—smooth, bare, flawless. Her figure stood outlined in the dim hallway light.
Her long, pale gold hair now flowed freely down her back. The lace-trimmed apron was gone. So was the silky nightgown. And the black leather gloves.
No more layers. No distractions.
It was her.
Just her.
She stepped into the bathroom and shut the door, not looking at him.
For a moment, no words were exchanged.
Then Elowen's fingers touched his chin, lifting it slightly as she drew nearer, her breath warm and light on his neck.
She smelled faintly of honey, vanilla, and almond oil. Her perfume had been applied so carefully, and yet was barely noticeable.
"My little son-in-law. How are you doing?" she asked softly.
"When did I become your son-in-law?" Ethan asked.
