Dib-dub dib-dub dib-dub...

The rhythmic noise went on in a beguiling, soothing pace.

Sofia took in a long breath filled with a certain, familiar, incredibly nice scent and huffed it out slowly.

Birds chirped in the distance. Something rustled—constantly and randomly, perhaps curtains fluttering because of light morning breeze. A myriad of noises pulled her out of the foggy world of a devastatingly contented sleep.

But opening her eyes seemed a troublesome challenge and she snuggled her face closer into the pillow.

The pillow rumbled. And then it stiffened. Then sighed, which hit her face softly. There was no movement for a long moment. When she was just slipping off into senselessness again, her groggy mind realized a super soft touch on her forehead, it had her instinctively hum in response. The touch was warm yet cold at the same time and it filled her half-asleep body with all kinds of positive vibes and stunning tingles. Her heart beat faster as she began waking up full-scale.

What was that? What's going on!

Pillow coming to life? With dib-dub heartbeats and warm breaths and tingling touches!

And, wait a minute. The living pillow had its arms around her too!

Her eyes shot open to discover a scruffy chin point blank.

Whoa!

Her gaze snapped down and she found herself snug against Max, chest to chest, pelvises pressed together, his hand draped around her waist, their legs entangled. And bloody hell, what was this hard thing pressing against her stomach. Morning glory!

Sofia gasped, her face shot up to see Max gazing down at her with lazy, sleepy eyes.

There was something in seeing those eyes first thing in the morning, especially if they were that hypnotic.

By the way, Neil, Skyler and Lolo would have loved this. Poor things just chose the wrong time.

Despite wanting the embarrassing opposite, she squirmed to move away from this extremely scandalous situation and he let her.

"Did you... kiss me on the forehead?" She could have put her foot in her mouth instead. God! This was awkward.

Still lying in the same way but a good distance away from Sofia, Max crossed his arms on his chest, and he looked somewhat rougish like that. "Am I not allowed to do that?"

Sofia gaped. Now, how do you answer that!

This was her chance to say that he wasn't allowed to kiss her awake, but to make matters worse she suddenly began having mental images of Max doing just that—kissing her awake, and not on the forehead.

It was official—her mind was rolling into the gutter.

And the way Max was looking at her was so unnerving that she decided it would not be a good idea to argue over this entire forehead kissing thingy. Who knew how things would end up! Maybe with him on top of her, or her on top him, kissing each other senseless in this very bed.

A bed is usually not a nice place to start and end arguments. She had read that in a magazine.

And the kiss was probably an accident.

People do weird things in sleep.

When Skyler was fourteen, one night, the girl ran around her room blindly in sleep until the door connected to her face. It was clear Max did something similar.

Happy discovering the acceptable conclusion, Sofia sat up on the bed.

Her eyes went to the pillow on the floor.

Um hm, there was their last night's border of two souls.

She looked at Max to see him still staring at her.

"Stop kicking things in sleep, Max," she said moving out of the bed, straightening her t-shirt.

The shuffling noises behind her said Max was getting out of the bed too.

"I didn't kick you," he said.

"You kicked off the pillow."

"How do you know it was not you behind the action?"

Sofia was walking towards the bathroom, she halted at the door and looked over her shoulder to see in time as he kicked the pillow upwards and it flew to land in the middle of the bed.

She raised a brow and he winked before quickly getting engrossed in his phone.

Once an arrogant, always an arrogant!

Shaking head Sofia went inside the bathroom.

This positivity since last night, it was relaxing and it was dangerous. Last night's talk had surely liberated both Max and her from a never ending circle—a circle of her hurting him and him hurting her.

But this liberation hadn't come alone. It had come hand in hand with hope. A hope that popped out of nowhere and was irrational. A hope of a certain something that was not to happen.

Max for sure didn't know what he was doing to her.

His fiery stares, tingly touches, accidental sleep-kissing and all the other small things he did to her, and everything that he did for her—it all made her want to put faith in that unreal hope. But with the knowledge that they were to go their separate ways after six months, it would be plain self-slaughtering to plunge headfirst into that hope.

Sofia was not dumb enough to not realize her own escalating feelings for her husband and that was why it was important that she put a rein on them. Because, at the end of the day this was her temporary husband in question, who was pretty blunt about it last night and what future that awaited them. Also, she had to pay that husband a debt before the divorce would take place.

Time was ticking away, fast.

He had asked her to believe in light, but she recalled the shooting star with all its light and wonders had disappeared quickly out the other end of the sky.

Light is fleeting, just like time. She called it delusion.

Sofia came out after doing her morning duties with a clear mind and steel heart, her chin jut out and face taut with determination.

Someone said it right - bathroom is the best place for discoveries. Eureka!

Max took a long look at her face from where he was sitting at the edge of the bed. She had a feeling of being put and inspected under a microscope.

Right when she thought he would pick up another playful argument that she was enjoying more than she should since a while now, surprising her instead, he gave her a thin lipped smile and went inside the bathroom she vacated just now. It provided her the impression that he didn't like what he saw.

Obviously. He had definitely seen better. Her cruel mind taunted her.

They were quick in preparing to leave for Asthel after that. Sam and Skyler had to go to school; Wilders had to go to the firm and Sofia to Mary's. Katherine and Lolo, on the other hand, nagged about doing some last minute arrangements for an evening tea party they had planned at the backyard of the Wilders' Mansion.

Neil had fortunately decided to let go of his anger from last night's failed escapade. It saved Sofia and Max from anymore awkwardness.

Soon, everyone was out at the driveway and was hopping into separate cars.

Robert Wilder had arranged for one of his cars to get the Haydens here and then take them back to the city. Sofia said goodbyes to them as they got into that car.

"Come," Max said, placing a hand on her lower back. She looked up at him. The sun shone behind him with brilliance and she saw the rays had created a halo around his head. She had an insane urge at that moment to reach out and with her fingertips touch his deep brown hair that seemed to have lightened to a soft honey color in sunlight. The pull from that moment stayed with her as he ushered her to his car.

Sofia noticed Max was exceptionally quiet while driving, like he was thinking hard about something. She left him to whatever it was.

Everyone needs their space after all. While Prodding is required to care, space is required to breathe.

"Should I drop you at Mary's?" Max asked casually as they walked inside the house.

"No," Sofia replied with a smile. "You'll get late for your office. And... I've my own car which I must start using from now on as my leg is declared alright at last"

They were walking up the stairs now and Sofia recalled all the times Max carried her up them.

"But what if your car breaks down?" he said. "Like it does most of the times."

"I'm used to dealing with it, passed years punching and kicking it to life."

Max chuckled. "So mechanic of you, Sof."

"Huh," Sofia flicked her hair in playful smugness. "You know who to call when your car troubles."

"I'll hold you to it, remember well."

While Max left for his room, Sofia entered hers.

It was palpable how everything was right that moment and yet nothing was.

Suddenly the distance between their rooms made her feel terrible, yet she had to say it was better this way.

She recalled all about last night and this morning. Sharing a room with him seemed natural and surreal at the same time, and all the awkwardness that came along the way were what she craved now—like a pregnant woman craves for pickles and crackers and ice-cream.

At the dining table, sitting next to each other, they gulped down breakfast in furious speed. Both were running late and the urgency to set out for their own workplaces clearly showed in their hurried movements.

Out at the gravel driveway, Sofia had just opened her car door to get in when Max was walking past her towards his own car. He stumbled to a sudden stop right beside her.

"I don't mean any offence, Sof," Max started, making her turn to face him. "But why are you wearing a dress that is torn in more than two places?"

Right when Sofia thought she could not be humiliated anymore in front of him, this just had to happen.

"Sof?" Max urged.

"I sewed over the torn places, it doesn't look that bad." Sofia defended quickly, looking down at her casual, worn out maxi dress. If it didn't look that bad he wouldn't have noticed in the first place.

"This is the third torn cloth I'm seeing you wearing since we—" Max paused, "married."

Feeling cornered, Sofia leaned back against her car. "I think you've forgotten that I didn't actually have the opportunity to bring a suitcase full of nice clothes from home," her mind unwillingly reeled back to the gloomy memories. Like a tidal wave, the heartfelt bitterness and pain came back too.

Forgetting is not easy, after all, no matter how genuinely one forgives.

"These are my old clothes I brought from Mary's." She shrugged.

"Why didn't you buy new ones?" Max asked, exasperated.

"Because I couldn't afford to waste money. I need to save for far more important things than spending it all on buying some clothes."

"But you could have just asked me and—" he halted abruptly mid-sentence, suddenly looking like he had drunk bitter poison.

Sofia's lips stretched into a fake smile, the effort was painful. Ringing were his words from the past that taunted her for being a gold digger.

It would have been normal if she felt satisfied witnessing his pained look. But the fact was nothing was actually normal between them.

Her heart broke for him. She remembered herself there, in his place, ten years ago. Guilt is a self-destructive feeling. She knew it well.

And so, her hand found his wrist and she shook him out of his ordeal. He didn't have any word to say when his eyes focused on hers.

"But I can always go back to Hayden House now and bring all my clothes and things here." She smiled a real smile now and saw his eyes ease a bit. It eased her heart in return.

Since when had she begun reflecting on his emotions like this? She wondered amused.

"I'll go with you and help you pack," Max announced seriously.

"The Hayden gang will help me just fine but that is if I need it. I can perfectly do this on my own."

"I'll go," his voice was firm, leaving no room for any rebellion.

What he didn't know was that she didn't really have the heart to rebel.

Sofia Hayden used to be hard-headed but Sofia Hayden Wilder was as soft-hearted as hearts could get. The combination was quite deadly.

And despite her furious attempts to not let it happen, how long would it take before she finally tired out? And faith, all by itself, would be put on that dreaded hope!