A buzzing on the nightstand pulled me from slumber, echoing loudly against the wood. It lasted only seconds, so I burrowed deeper into the cover before stretching out – luxuriating in a bed all to myself.

His bed. Hm. I didn’t smell coffee. Had we finally grown so comfortable? Reaching out, I snagged my cell and flipped it open.

Good Morning, I’m glad that you are in my bed.

I smiled and thought to send a text back immediately, then shut the phone instead.

I went through my normal routine. Shower, dress, primp, altered the ritual to dab his scent at my throat, gathered up all I needed for the day, checked my clutch to be sure I was ready to go.

Then I sat and pulled a sheet of stationery and a Waterman out of the desk drawer.

Loved waking up in your bed, even without you there.

I folded the note and propped it next to the sugar bowl where he would see it later.

Lock up on the way out the door to work. Finally, a text from the train:

Good morning. Thanks for the wake-up text.