He wasn’t dumb enough to leave me a note, was he? I picked it up, noticing the little pokes in the paper, and I laid it in my palm, running my fingers over the raised dots and instantly recognizing the braille. Moving from left to right, over the cells, I deciphered the message. Stay in bed. I’ll be back for breakfast. Then after breakfast, we’ll eat. I snorted, realizing the breakfast he’d be back for was me. P.S. Your phone is on the nightstand. I crashed back on the bed, feeling my body tingle all over. He wrote me a note. I’d never gotten a love letter before, and that was totally one.
