I had looked up from my bed. You hadn’t left, but just lay next to me still sleeping. I sighed, a combination of relief and joy. I tried to adjust myself without waking you up and failed. You groggily looked up at me and we smiled. Breakfast could have been better, but then again I’ve always sucked at eggs. You made the pancakes and they were great. They were always great. But those days had ended; you made pancakes for someone else now. I keep trying to make better eggs, but they’re never as good as they were that day.
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