~WILLOW~
He was drunk. Dante was drunk. I could quickly tell by the way he moved. His feet were wobbly as he exited the shower with nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist.
To my surprise, instead of putting clothes on, he walks over to the bed. I'm speechless when he hovers over me. The water from his skin drips onto my nightgown, and I gasp from the contact. His hands are pressed against either side of me on the bed.
"I don't hate you."
It was just four words, but those four words made my heart feel like it was running a marathon. It was pounding uncontrollably.
"I'm not perfect," I whisper. "There are many reasons that you can find to end our marriage."
I knew he was intoxicated and most likely wouldn't remember this conversation tomorrow, but I still wanted him to see
