Michael Reyes slowly blinked awake, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting a soft glow across the room. He felt the warmth of another body next to him, and for a moment, he wondered if it was a dream. But as he turned his head, his breath caught in his throat.
Bridget was there, nestled against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm draped lazily across his torso. She was sound asleep, her breathing slow and steady, her face peaceful and content. Her hair spilled over the pillow, a few strands tickling his skin.
Michael couldn't help but smile. The last time they had spent the night together, he had woken up alone, with Bridget already up and cooking breakfast in the kitchen. But today was different. She was still here, in his arms, and he felt a surge of warmth and affection for her.
