Nicholas carried her down the hallway in silence, his arms firm around her as if she weighed nothing at all, though she knew the emotional weight of everything tonight could have broken bones. Each step he took was careful, deliberate—like he was afraid if he moved too quickly, she'd fall apart again.
Ella rested quietly against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath his tailored shirt. It was the only thing grounding her after the storm. The scent of him—clean, sharp, masculine—wrapped around her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she could finally breathe.
When they reached the guest bedroom, Nicholas paused at the threshold. The room was softly lit, a warm glow spilling from a nearby lamp. The bed had already been prepared, the sheets turned down with a precision that didn't match the chaos still echoing in her chest.
