Morning arrived quietly.
Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting pale gold across the bedroom walls. The house itself was still, the kind of silence that only came in the early hours before anyone else had woken.
Leah opened her eyes slowly.
For a moment she stayed still, letting the quiet settle around her.
Then she felt the warmth against her.
Izana was still there.
His head rested against her chest, one arm loosely around her waist. His breathing was slow and steady, deeper than it had been in days.
Leah watched him for a long moment.
It was rare to see him like this.
Normally Izana woke before everyone else in the mansion. By the time the sun rose he was already moving, already thinking about work, already carrying the responsibilities that never seemed to leave him.
But today he hadn't moved.
Last night had taken everything out of him.
Her fingers moved gently through his hair, careful not to wake him.
He shifted slightly in his sleep but didn't open his eyes.
Leah let out a quiet breath.
"You needed this," she whispered softly, though he couldn't hear her.
Carefully, she adjusted her position so her arm wouldn't go numb. As she moved, the blanket slid down slightly.
Izana shifted again.
His head rolled faintly against her chest.
The fabric of his shirt lifted just enough for her to see it.
Leah froze.
Just above his hip, along the side of his lower back, there was a scar.
Long.
Straight.
Precise.
Her eyes lingered on it.
It wasn't jagged like a knife wound.
It wasn't uneven like an injury from a fight.
It was clean.
Too clean.
A surgical scar.
Her breath caught quietly in her throat.
Leah stared at it for a few seconds, trying to process what she was seeing.
And then the realization hit her.
That scar hadn't been there before.
Two years ago, when Izana left, she had known his body well enough to remember every mark.
Something like this?
She would have noticed.
Which meant only one thing.
It had happened while he was gone.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Carefully, she lifted the edge of his shirt a little more so she could see the scar properly.
It ran along his lower back, just above his hip, disappearing slightly beneath the waistband of his pants.
Someone had cut him open.
The thought made her stomach twist.
Her fingers hovered above the scar.
She hesitated.
Then she gently brushed the faint line with her fingertips.
Izana woke instantly.
There was no slow stirring.
No groggy confusion.
His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist.
Hard.
His eyes were open.
Sharp.
Alert.
For a split second he looked like he was about to fight someone.
Then he realized it was her.
The tension in his grip loosened immediately.
But he didn't let go right away.
Leah didn't pull back.
She simply looked at him calmly.
"That wasn't there before," she said softly.
Izana blinked once.
Then he slowly released her wrist.
"…It's nothing."
Leah pushed herself up slightly so she could look at him properly.
The blanket shifted again.
"That's a surgical scar," she said.
He looked away.
"It's old."
Her gaze stayed steady.
"It's not that old."
Silence settled between them.
Izana shifted slightly, pulling the back of his shirt down instinctively.
But it was too late.
She had already seen it.
"You didn't have that when you left," Leah said quietly.
Izana didn't respond.
He just stared toward the window for a moment.
That silence said enough.
Leah watched him carefully.
"What happened?" she asked gently.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"…An injury."
"That's not really an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting right now."
There was no anger in his voice.
Just quiet resistance.
Leah tilted her head slightly.
"So someone had to operate on you."
He didn't deny it.
"You almost died, didn't you?" she asked softly.
Izana's eyes flicked back to hers.
For a moment something crossed his expression.
Too quick to fully read.
"…I'm still here," he said quietly.
"That's not a denial."
He sighed faintly.
"You're very observant in the morning."
"I'm always observant."
He gave the faintest hint of a tired smile.
Then it faded again.
Leah's hand rested lightly over the place where the scar was hidden beneath his shirt.
Izana stiffened slightly.
But he didn't pull away.
"You should have told me," she said softly.
"It wasn't important."
"It was surgery, Izana."
He looked back at her.
"I healed."
"That doesn't mean it didn't matter."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said quietly,
"I didn't want you worrying about things you couldn't change."
Leah raised an eyebrow.
"You think I wouldn't worry?"
He gave a faint breath of amusement.
"No. I knew you would."
"Then hiding it didn't really solve anything."
"It solved it for two years."
She studied his face.
"You were alone when it happened, weren't you?"
His gaze shifted away again.
"…Not exactly."
"Who helped you?"
"A doctor."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
He didn't elaborate.
Leah sighed softly.
"You're very good at avoiding questions."
"I've had practice."
She looked down briefly before asking quietly,
"Were you scared?"
Izana seemed surprised by the question.
"…No."
Leah raised an eyebrow.
"Not even a little?"
"I had worse things to worry about."
That answer made her stomach tighten again.
"What kind of injury requires surgery like that?"
He didn't answer.
Instead he looked down at her hand resting against his side.
"…It's over," he said quietly.
Leah studied him carefully.
"You say that like you don't want to think about it."
"That's exactly why."
She watched him for another moment.
Then she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder.
The small gesture caught him off guard.
His eyes widened faintly.
Leah rested her forehead lightly against him.
"We'll talk about it when you're ready."
Izana stared at her for a few seconds.
"You're not going to keep asking?"
"I will," she said honestly.
That made him huff quietly.
"But not today," she finished.
He looked relieved.
Just slightly.
His hand moved slowly until he found hers.
His bandaged fingers curled gently around it.
"…You're stubborn," he murmured.
Leah smiled faintly.
"You married me."
He studied her face for a moment.
Then he said quietly,
"…Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not pushing."
Leah squeezed his hand lightly.
"You'll tell me eventually."
He didn't answer.
But he didn't deny it either.
And for now—
That was enough.