The morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, casting a soft glow over everything. Alex Black sat at the dining table, reading the paper with his usual calm focus.

His salt-and-pepper hair and crisp white shirt made him look effortlessly elegant.

At 49, he had a timeless charm, and you often found yourself marveling at how you, at 32, had ended up here, married to a man who was not only older but also one of the wealthiest men you knew.

“Good morning, darling,” Alex said, looking up from his paper with a warm smile. He stood and pulled out a chair for you, his usual gesture of care.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice still thick with sleep as you made your way to the table. He leaned down to kiss your temple, the scent of his cologne mixing with the morning air.

The table was set with fresh fruit, pastries, and chocolate croissants, your favorites, flown in from Paris.

It was a world you never imagined, yet one that felt natural with him.

The wealth wasn’t what made your heart flutter, it was the thoughtfulness behind it all, how he remembered what you loved and made sure every morning felt special.

“You sleep well?” Alex asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, sipping your juice. “How about you?”

“Good,” he said, his smile making your heart skip a beat. There was no pretense with Alex, just a quiet affection that made every moment feel real.