Alexia POV:
The couch. Nope, I meant to say my new sleeping quarters. I wouldn't call it terrible; in fact, it was oddly more comfortable than the rickety excuse for a bed I'd had back at my dingy little apartment. Still, it was the principle of the thing. My husband—and I use that term loosely—was sprawled out in a bed that could easily fit half a soccer team, while I was left to curl up like a stray cat.
But hey, if there's one thing I've learned in life, it's how to make the best of a bad situation. So, after tossing and turning for what felt like forever, I finally drifted off into a surprisingly decent sleep.
I managed to get a few hours of decent sleep, even though I was still simmering from last night's great bed eviction. And just when I was finally drifting into dreamland—probably something involving me throwing pies at Aiden's smug face—bam! I was rudely awakened by what sounded like an entire construction crew setting up shop in the room.
And then I woke up.
