When Phillip came downstairs first thing in the morning, I was already seated at the kitchen bar, laptop in front of me, a coffee in hand. "What are you doing up so early?" he asked, glancing down at his watch. He was dressed in a fresh white t-shirt and black pants, his blonde hair slicked back out of his face.
I hopped up, rushing him for a hug. "Your husband is mean."
He gave a small chuckle, squeezing me tight. "Yes," he agreed automatically, "but what did he do this time?"
"He kicked me out of the room last night," I mumbled pulling back to pout up at him. "I didn't even get the chance to say hello."
His dimple was showing as his smile widened, dark eyes softening. "Hello."
His smile was contagious. "Hello," I echoed back, pressing my face to his chest. Phil ruffled my ha
