Anna can't fathom the change. Their couplings only ever took place at her home or a hotel (that he paid for) – not his home. The short glance she'd managed explained why. There's no warmth, no personality. It looks like an IKEA home, save for the flower bedspread he swiftly led her to, reeking comfort and familiarity. She's honoured to glimpse this aspect.
She holds him close as he enters her, murmuring names. "Anna," sounds steadily louder as he moves, accompanying three little, significant words as he comes.
Her heart swells.
Six months and he loves her.