The Don's Wife

39 | Late Morning

"Make it elegant, luxurious. Perhaps something like a Victorian type of style." Talking through the phone with his voice low, James paced back and forth his room.

His gaze landed on the sleeping beauty laying in his bed, before he spoke again in a more hushed tone. "I want it in white."

"Hm, yes. Roses, only roses." Wanting to take a closer look, James sat himself on the edge of his bed next to her.

"Send me the designs as soon as possible. I'll give you time until tonight." He hung up.

It was already 10 AM. Usually James had finished his breakfast and started working by now. But the thought of his wife waking up alone didn't sit well with him. After all, he's the one who's responsible for her prolonged slumber in the first place.

Rosalind has always been an early bird, and James knows that well. Even before he goes downstairs to the dining room in the morning, she's already sauntering around in the kitchen, preparing meals. But as diligent as one come, a night of endless steamy sessions would wear anyone down, especially a novice such as Rosalind.

After they did it, she could barely speak nor move. The only thing that's left of her was a shred of consciousness that's slowly drifting away. James even had to carry her to his bedroom.

He felt bad for her, to have to put up with his endurance, his tempestuous urges, and felt the more guilty because he didn't regret any of his doings, not one second of it. Furthermore, he didn't want her to think that he's neglecting her again. Thus, he brought his paperworks into his room, told Mary to bring breakfast for them as well, and decided to wait until Rosalind is awake.

At the sight of his wife's blissful sleeping face, he couldn't look away. Without him realizing it, he ended up observing her. Paying attention to the peaceful rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, admiring every forms of her lineaments. From her straight, narrow forehead, those wispy lashes that added a graceful touch to her angelic face, to the outline of her dainty, greek nose, and all the way down to her full even-shaped lips that are sweet to the taste.

He couldn't fathom how such beauty exist, what's more, belong to him, and only him.

For the very first time since the day he married, disregarding the discord between them, and as irritating as it is to admit, he was thankful to his father.

"J–mie.."
She mumbled in her sleep, turning to her side, facing her husband.

"There's a huge section within my brain reserved only for you."

The adorable scene automatically made him recalled those exact words. He chuckled, delighted to witness the proof of her silly statement. That even within her subsconcious, he's still present in her mind.

Overflowing with affection, he stroked Rosalind's hair, caressed her forehead gently with his thumb, smiling to himself.

'I wonder what she's dreaming of.
I hope it's a good one.'

*knock knock*

Had already expected who it was, James walked over to the door and carefully opened it halfway. Micah eyed James up and down then peeked inside his dark room over his shoulder, curious about his unusual timetable.

Of course Micah knew something's off. Calling him to his room instead of his office, finding him in a robe instead of dressed neatly in a suit at such hour. It was unlike James to sleep in.

"You sick or something?"

James stepped outside his room, yet leaving the door slightly ajar so he could hear when Rosalind wakes up.