“I missed finding your hair on my shirts,” I told her, twisting one of the brown locks between my fingers. “I missed you sleeping next to me and stealing my covers. I missed you bugging me about dinner and what you were and were not willing to cook. I missed you staring at me until I paid attention to you.” I dropped a kiss to her nose. “I missed the way you smelled, and the way you brushed your hair. I missed the way you took long showers and left me all the lukewarm water that our poor water heater could muster. I missed the way you scattered your makeup all over the counter, and the way you
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