“Good morning, beautiful, how was your night?...“

The song echoed in her head. She hadn’t heard the song, herself, in years. And the man it made her think about hated country music.

“Mine was wonderful, with you by my side…“

It reminded her of the morning after their first night “together,” when she found out he was an insomniac. She had woken up shortly after sunrise, to find him already awake.

“And when I open my eyes, and see your sweet face…“

“Sleep well?” she had asked him.

“No,” he had responded, “but the company was good.”

“It’s a good mornin’ beautiful day…“

What had happened to that, and those beautiful days?