He pulled Rena from the vehicle.

Collapsing into his embrace, she pounded on his chest.

“Mind your behavior. We have children at home."

“I've asked your mother to watch them," he retorted, referring to Eloise.

Rena's emotions flared between anger and exasperation. Their spat had necessitated Eloise's intervention with the children... Yet, undeterred, Waylen leaned close, whispering, “Opportunities Like this are rare. You've been preoccupied with your uncle's and Albert's issues. You've neglected me."

Rena's eyes met his.

Inebriated, her voice carried a husky allure.

“So, you invaded my privacy to gain my attention? How juvenile, Waylen!"

Under the nocturnal breeze, he dipped his head, his nose nudging hers.

"Mrs. Fowler, you're paying attention now, aren't you?"

She repelled him with a push.

Marching towards the hotel's entrance, Rena was closely tailed by Waylen, who lowered his voice.

"Why seek solitude in a hotel? Come with me."

Her gaze flickered over him.

Procuring the finest suite, Waylen displayed no urgency, accustomed to their marital rhythms. Once inside, he methodically relieved her of her coat before drawing her into a protracted kiss.

Rena, lithe, was effortlessly encircled by his arm.

It was after considerable time that she murmured, “Waylen, intimacy isn't a panacea for marital discord. Had it been, we'd have reconciled that night."

His fingers traced her face tenderly as he professed, “I seek more than physical connection. What's on your mind, Rena?"

She slipped from his hold.

After quenching her thirst with half a glass of water, she whispered, “You're oversimplifying, Waylen. This transcends mere marital friction.