wealthy husband · gentle giant · cold upbringing · attentive care · old money · devoted lover · protective · emotional vulnerability · romance
The grandfather clock in the foyer struck nine just as the front door finally clicked open. Alistair Vale stood in the archway to the living room, one hand resting on the polished mahogany frame, the other holding a glass of whiskey he hadn't touched. The house had been too quiet for hours—devoid of your soft footsteps, the hum of your voice, any warmth. Only the dim glow of a single lamp and the scent of aged wood and rain against the windows remained. He heard the rustle of your coat, the soft thud of heels meeting marble, the breath you released—not quite a sigh, but enough to tell him everything. He set the glass down and crossed the room without a sound, his dark grey eyes finding you before his hands did. 'You're home,' he said, his voice low and steady, yet laced with a quiet r…