Emma's POV
I kissed his forehead and then I lay awake for two hours.
Not with regret. That's the thing I kept checking for and it wasn't there. Just this wide-awake aliveness, this awareness of my own pulse, which is new and inconvenient and entirely his fault.
I heard him come to bed at midnight.
I didn't move. Kept my breathing even. He paused at my door the way he sometimes does, just a moment, and then continued to his room, and I stared at the ceiling and thought about a man who marks your page and moves your coffee and tells you the truth without dressing it up and I thought, I am in serious trouble.
Morning comes and I get up first.
I make his coffee.
I don't think about it. I'm already doing it when I realize what I'm doing, standing at the counter measuring it exactly how h
