“Thank you,” I whispered, voice still raw. “Figured you had to be as tired as I am,” he said, hesitantly sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched me take a sip, my eyes closing on a hum. The coffee had hazelnut creamer in it. “I hope you like that flavor,” he said. “I remembered you mentioned that you missed the creamer your dad always had at home, but I couldn’t remember what it was.” “Toffee,” I said. “But this is wonderful. Thank you.”
