My husband went to the supermarket

you.

I bite my lip, feeling the sting of tears I wasn’t expecting. He didn’t just remember. He left proof. Like he wanted me to know that this wasn’t luck—it was care.

When I walk back into the bedroom, he’s already under the blanket, scrolling through his phone. I crawl in beside him and wrap my arms around his chest, pressing my face into the soft continue reading …