Travis wasn’t back when I was lying in bed; call me spoiled, but I was, getting Beau to sleep and lying down inside my bed alone and staring at my phone under the cover, not wanting to wake up my baby and looking at anything to make me sleepy.
Nothing was working when my mind kept drifting back to Travis, who had told me he would be back, and he always was, and now, he wasn’t.
I frowned, pulling on my sweater and stepping out of my bedroom dressed in shorts and slippers, probably looking like I was dead tired. Still, I wasn’t when I was holding my phone in one hand. The baby monitor in the other one walked out to see if his truck was there; he didn’t go anywhere without that old rust bucket still on its spot. So, he was home.
My first thought was to go back to bed, but then again, why?
