Jasmine stirred slowly on the bed, her hair was scattered everywhere as she yawned while her fingers reached across the sheets.
The space beside her was empty.
She sighed and sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. A faint scent of coffee drifted in from the kitchen into the bedroom.
The early morning sun penetrated the window into the room. The air was different there in Chicago.
It has been a year since everything happened. A year, the pained rolled by. And kingsley had made preparations for them to revisit and complete their vacation at his penthouse in the snowy island.
They left their daughter, Iris, with Jasmine's mom to take care of while they were gone.
Jasmine smiled weakly, her eyes were a little misty. Kingsley was up before her again.
She wrapped a robe around her shoulders and walked barefoot into the kitchen with no panties underneath Kingsley's shirt she had on.
