At 6.30 pm I entered my house.
My bodyguards had informed me that the hairdresser and make-up artist were still at home and I had to give up undressing, as I always did, as soon as I walked through the door.
I should have gotten used to this, after all, I had already decided a long time ago that I wanted to live with Ashe and make this our home and not just mine anymore. Even though Ashe had only brought her presence, I had filled the house with her things. Half of her walk-in closet was hers, in the bathroom there were the products she usually used. I had given a list of things that Ashe liked, even for the maid to fill the pantry accordingly. Ashe had habits that were an easy way to get her to settle in our house without effort.
I followed the sound of hair dryers and voices to one of
