27.

Vera’s POV

I woke up to the sound of someone rummaging through my cupboard. Blinking against the morning light, I sat up and found Daniel standing there, shuffling through my clothes like he owned the place.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice groggy and full of confusion.

He didn’t even glance back. “Looking for something to wear,” he said nonchalantly.

I stared at him, dumbfounded for a second, before letting out a chuckle. “Daniel, I don’t have your clothes in my room.”

That’s when he turned around, his brow slightly furrowed, and said, “I’m not looking for my clothes. I’m looking for yours.”

That shut me up. “My clothes? Why?”

He leaned against the edge of the cupboard and crossed his arms. “Because I need to know what you’re planning to wear. It matters, doesn’t it?”

I blinked at him. “Uh… I was just going to grab whatever’s comfortable. Jeans, maybe?”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze calculated. “Jeans?” He walked over to the cupboard, pulled out a skirt, and held it up. “Why not this? It’s simple, and it’s flattering on you.”

I frowned, unsure whether to feel insulted or amused. “What are you—my stylist now?”

He ignored my sarcasm and continued. “A skirt like this makes you look more approachable. If you wear it with a blouse,” he pulled one out and showed me, “you’ll look put-together but still casual. It’s versatile.”

I raised a brow, leaning back against the bed. “And jeans don’t do that?”

He gave me a small, almost imperceptible smirk. “Jeans are fine. They’re practical, but they don’t stand out. You blend in with everyone else when you wear them.”

I crossed my arms, staring at him. “What’s wrong with blending in?”

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug, “but you’re not exactly someone who should blend in, are you?” His tone was calm, almost detached, but the words still carried weight.

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just grabbed the skirt and blouse from his hands. “Fine,” I muttered. “If it bothers you that much, I’ll wear this.”

“Good choice,” he said simply, stepping back to let me pass.

As I walked toward the bathroom to change, I glanced back at him. For someone so cold and distant with everyone else, Daniel had this strange way of paying attention to me. It wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was there—in the way he watched, the way he spoke, the way he noticed things most people wouldn’t.

It was confusing. Frustrating, even. But I couldn’t deny that, in some small way, it made me feel seen.

I held the skirt and blouse in my hands, still trying to make sense of Daniel’s sudden interest in my wardrobe choices. He didn’t move, his sharp eyes following my every motion like he was waiting for some kind of reaction.

“You know,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence, “it doesn’t bother me what you wear.” His tone was even, calm. “I was just… trying to help.”

That threw me off. I stared at him for a moment, unsure whether to feel touched or suspicious. “Help?” I repeated, my voice softer this time. “Why are you trying to be there for me all of a sudden?”

For a moment, he said nothing. His gaze remained steady, his expression unreadable as he studied me. Then, he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning slightly against the cupboard.

“Because you’re my wife,” he said simply, his voice steady and firm. “And I’ll always be there for you. No matter what.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and unshakable. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure if I could say anything.

Something in the way he said it made my stomach twist in the most confusing way—like a pool of butterflies had suddenly taken flight, fluttering wildly and leaving me breathless. My heart skipped a beat, and I hated how obvious it must’ve been, but I couldn’t stop it.

I clutched the skirt a little tighter in my hands, trying to keep my composure. “Oh,” was all I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t seem fazed by my reaction, though his gaze softened slightly as he watched me. It wasn’t a big, dramatic moment—there was no smile, no grand gesture. Just those words, steady and certain, like a promise carved into stone.

I quickly turned toward the bathroom, my cheeks burning. “I’m… going to get dressed,” I mumbled, desperate for an escape.

As I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it and took a deep breath. His words echoed in my mind, over and over.

He’ll always be there for me. No matter what.

The butterflies in my stomach refused to settle, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After pulling myself together, I dressed quickly and stepped out of the bathroom to find Daniel leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. He didn’t look up as I walked past him, but I could feel his presence trailing behind me as we made our way downstairs.

The kitchen was quiet, the smell of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. I grabbed a mug and poured myself some while Daniel fixed his usual plate of eggs and toast.

We sat across from each other at the small dining table, the silence between us oddly comfortable. I tried to distract myself by focusing on my coffee, but his earlier words still echoed in my mind, stirring up the butterflies that refused to settle.

Before I could fully process the thought, the doorbell rang, cutting through the quiet morning. I glanced at Daniel, who raised an eyebrow but didn’t move.

“Are you going to get that?” I asked, half-joking.

He stood without a word and headed for the door. Curious, I followed him, lingering a few steps behind.