DASHIELL
What kind of person had I married?
I watched Alex disappear upstairs without looking back or offering to help with either suitcase. Considering the way he'd spoken to me since leaving the courthouse, I shouldn't have expected anything different.
Besides, complaining felt ridiculous when I had walked into that courthouse and signed the certificate myself. Nobody had forced the pen into my hand. Harper Regional needed the Astors' help, Bianca had refused their condition, and I had made the choice to take her place.
Knowing that didn't make hauling two suitcases upstairs any easier.
I retrieved my notebook from the floor, tucked it beneath my arm and dragged both cases toward the stairs. By the time I reached the middle, my arms were shaking and I had to stop against the railing to catch my breath.
The silence bothered me more than the weight.
At home, there was always something happening somewhere. My parents talking, Selene moving around, staff passing through the halls. Alex's house had none of it. The place was so quiet I could hear the faint hum of the ventilation system as I continued upstairs.
The hallway was just as stark as everything below, with dark doors, recessed lighting and cold tile stretching beneath my feet. Warm light showed beneath a door farther down, which I assumed belonged to Alex, while the second door on the left opened into what was apparently mine.
The bedroom was large enough to be comfortable but contained almost nothing beyond a king bed with crisp white sheets, black nightstands and a tall window hidden behind blackout curtains. An open archway led into an equally spotless bathroom, and the bare walls made me wonder whether anyone had ever actually stayed here.
At least the room was mine.
Maybe that meant I could change it a little. A plant near the window, a softer blanket and a photograph of Mom, Dad and Selene would be enough to make it feel less like a hotel room nobody had bothered finishing.
I sat on the edge of the bed and organized tomorrow in my head instead.
Unpack. Shower. Sleep. Astor Medical Center in the morning.
That last part made my stomach tighten. New hospital, new colleagues, unfamiliar rooms and an entirely different routine, all beginning less than twenty-four hours after I'd changed homes and acquired a husband.
Unpacking gave me something predictable to focus on.
I folded everything the way I always did and arranged my clothes inside the empty dresser, adjusting each stack until it sat properly. The repetition helped settle me, although my attention kept drifting toward the bedroom door and the man somewhere beyond it.
I wondered whether Alex had thought about me once since coming upstairs.
Probably not.
The realization irritated me enough that the dresser drawer closed harder than intended.
Maybe Bianca had been right to call me an idiot. I had married a man who barely tolerated my presence because I wanted to save a hospital, and some ridiculous part of me was still wondering whether there might eventually be more to him than what I'd seen today.
I hoped there was.
That might have been the stupidest part of all.
---
I had just finished showering when I stepped into the bedroom with a towel draped over my wet hair.
Packing in a rush had meant bringing little beyond the basics, and since I was alone with the bedroom door closed, I hadn't bothered covering myself before searching my suitcase for something to sleep in.
The door opened.
I snatched the towel from my hair as Alex walked in and stopped just inside the room.
"Alex!"
His eyes traveled over me with unnerving calm while I dragged the towel around my waist, heat rushing into my face so quickly that even my ears burned.
"You should knock."
"It was unlocked."
"That doesn't mean you can just walk in!"
Apparently, to Alex, it did. He closed the door behind him and came farther into the room while I held the towel securely around myself.
"What do you want?"
"I needed to confirm something."
"What?"
He didn't answer immediately, and the silence became unbearable when I realized he was still studying me.
"Could you stop looking at me like that?"
"You're blushing."
"I'm naked!"
His attention returned to my face. "I'm aware."
I stared at him, unable to decide whether I wanted to yell at him or throw something.
Alex stopped a few feet away. "Rule adjustment. Lock the door when you don't want anyone coming in."
"You could also knock."
"I could."
"And?"
"I didn't."
My mouth fell open.
The asshole.
He seemed entirely unaffected by my outrage, although his attention dipped briefly before returning to my face.
I pulled the towel higher. "Are you finished confirming whatever extremely important thing required barging into my bedroom?"
"Yes."
"Good. Leave."
For the first time that evening, I thought I saw the beginning of amusement in his expression.
"Lock the door behind me, Dashiell."
"I plan to."
He turned toward the hallway, then paused long enough to glance back. "We leave early tomorrow. Don't make me wait."
"I won't."
The door closed behind him.
I crossed the room immediately and locked it.
Only then did I lean against the wood and release the breath I'd been holding, still burning with embarrassment and irritation as I listened to his footsteps disappear down the hallway.
Less than a day married, and Alexander Astor had already managed to make me want to hide from him and argue with him in equal measure.
Tomorrow, I had to survive an entirely new hospital with him somewhere inside it.
Tonight, I was sleeping with the damn door locked.