Page 54 of The Hotel Room

Kate sat up slowly, fatigue still pressing heavy in her limbs. She glanced toward the clock on the nightstand. Later than she expected.

James must have already taken Lily to school.

He told me to stay in bed. And I listened.

That in itself felt strange—letting herself be taken care of, even in this small way.

She pushed back the blanket and padded into the hallway, the ache in her body making her steps slower than usual.

From the kitchen, the soft clink of mugs drifted toward her.

He came back.

James was standing by the counter, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. His hands rested on a mug, fingers curled around the ceramic as he stared out the window like he was lost in thought.

“You’re still here?” Her voice came out softer than she intended, rough from sleep.

James turned, his expression shifting the moment he saw her. He didn’t say anything right away—just looked at her, reallylooked—like he was still seeing the exhaustion she felt down to her bones.

“Yeah,” he said gently. “I thought I’d work from home today. Just...wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The words felt sincere in a way that unsettled her.

Kate nodded slowly, unsure how to respond to this softer version of him.

Then his gaze shifted, past her, toward the hall leading to the guest room.

Her stomach twisted.

The art supplies. The half-finished canvas. The chaos she hadn’t cleaned up from the night before.

He saw it.

Heat rushed to her face. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, feeling exposed in a way she hadn’t expected. That canvas wasn’t meant for anyone’s eyes. It wasunfinished, vulnerable, raw—just like everything she was feeling but hadn’t yet figured out how to express.

She braced for the teasing comment. The playful tone he used to use when she’d painted, back when it was just a hobby she let slip away after the kids were born.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, James’s gaze lingered on the hallway for a heartbeat longer before he met her eyes again.

“You painted last night.” His voice wasn’t teasing. Just...curious.

Kate shrugged, a protective edge creeping into her tone. “Yeah. I couldn’t sleep. It’s not—”

“It’s beautiful.”

She blinked, the words catching her off guard.

Beautiful?

“It’s not done,” she deflected. “It’s a mess. I just—”

“It’s not a mess.” His voice was softer now, more certain. He stepped a little closer, careful but sure. “I can see what you were feeling.”

And that was when it hit her.

Shetrustedhim with this. Just like she had trusted him withallof herself for their entire marriage.

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