She was always up and out at the crack of dawn, so she left him morning greetings on post-its on the kitchen cupboard; he’d find them when he went to get his morning coffee.
Try not to strangle Jeff. x
Sorry I shouted last night. x
I love you. x
They were comforting, familiar – especially these days, with the endless failed attempts to start a family hanging over their heads. She never failed to remind him that he was lucky to have her.
This morning’s entry was stuck to the empty coffee jar and read:
Decaf only for the next nine months. x
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