I’m asleep when it sinks into my consciousness that I’m not alone. I open my eyes to the darkness, fuzzy-brained and not quite out of my dream yet. It’s late, after midnight. There’s a man lying next to me, in exactly the place he’s supposed to be. This is where he belongs, and yet it’s a lightning strike straight to the heart to see him here. “What are you doing home?” I blink several times, waiting for him to disappear. I’m still dreaming. “You missed me.” “You came home because I missed you?” He’s got his elbow bent on the pillow, palm under the back of his head, watching me fathomlessly.
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