VIII.When I get up, John is still sleeping. He looks adorable, messy hair, face cuddled into the plush pillow and I don't have the heart to disturb him. I decide instead that I should go out and pick up some milk for our morning tea.
His bag is on the table. A large conference pad is visible through the half-open zip. I'd better leave a note in case he wakes up.
I take out the pad and flip through pages of text, densely written, trying to find the first blank page. But these are not regular notes, it's more like an essay and a very long one too. Seeing my name scribbled multiple times throughout the text sparks my curiosity.
I flip back to the beginning.
'6th December
Dear Cath,
Before I left for this trip, I didn't think it was possible how much I would miss you. I could see it in y
