I returned home from a work trip to find 100 roses delivered to my wife – then I noticed the note hidden inside one of the bouquets

was always on the porch before I finished pulling into the driveway.
Sometimes she waved with both hands like I had been gone for months instead of five days.
Sometimes she stood there barefoot in one of my old sweaters, smiling as if the entire house had been waiting to breathe again.

This time, the porch was empty.

“Jane?” I muttered, leaning forward continue reading …