« Hey, » I whispered. « You okay? »
« Yeah. »
He answered too quickly.
« Just a long week coming. »
« Anything serious? » I asked.
« Paperwork. Old files. » His eyes drifted toward the window. « Nothing you’d want to hear about. »I should have asked another question.
Instead, I let him kiss my forehead, watched him leave, and stood at the window until his truck disappeared around the corner.
The house felt strangely empty after that.
I wandered into the kitchen and looked at the lasagna I’d already prepared for the weekend. Then I looked at the little heart I’d drawn around today’s date on the calendar.
Five years.
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