My Darling – Epilogue – Write Me Back

My darling,

you were right.

Don’t enjoy that too much. I can already see your face – that specific tilt you do, chin down, eyebrows up, like you’re waiting for me to say it again so you can savor it twice.

Fine. You were right. The Mercer account should have gone to Marcus in March, not June, and if I’d listened to you three months earlier I wouldn’t have spent a weekend redoing work I’d already done once.

There. Written down. Permanent record. You can frame it.

I made the coffee wrong again.

I don’t know how that’s possible after six years, but apparently my hands have decided measurements are optional now. Too much milk.

You would’ve made a face and drunk it anyway and told me it was fine in a tone that meant it was absolutely not fine.

You used to say I showed most of my affection by frowning at you.

I frowned when you said it.

You laughed so hard you nearly spilled your coffee – the correctly made kind – which, unfortunately, proved your point.

I had a long day.

I won’t bore you with it.

You always said I under-told my bad days and over-told my boring ones, so – reversed, for you, on purpose:

Boring day.

Very boring.

Deeply uneventful.

Thank you for asking.

Write back when you wake up.