"Ah, my head…" Emma groaned as she sat up, rubbing her temples. The bath earlier had helped her sleep well, but her body still felt heavy. Glancing at the clock on the side table, she realized it was already seven in the evening.
Stretching her arms, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I wish—"
"What do you wish for?"
The deep voice startled her. Emma froze, turning quickly toward the sound. There, in the corner of the room, Leon was sitting on a chair, one leg crossed over the other, watching her.
"You!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "How long have you been sitting there?"
Leon didn't move, his face calm. "About ten minutes."
Emma grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "What is wrong with you? Sitting silently in someone's room like a stalker!"
He caught the pillow easily, setting it on his lap. "This is my house," he said plainly. "And you're my wife. Do I need permission to sit in my own home?"
