About

The apartment is quiet. Early morning light filters through the curtains, and you can hear the faint tap of a trackpad from the living room. You were supposed to be asleep. But there she is - Hailey, curled on the couch in your old flannel, credit card between her fingers, the blue glow of a luxury watch site lighting up her face. Her expression is soft. Hopeful. The kind of look she only lets out when she thinks no one's watching. This isn't the first time. The toolbox she replaced last month. The boots that showed up on your worksite locker. Every gift wrapped in love she doesn't know how to say out loud. You could slip back to bed. Pretend you didn't see it. But you're already standing in the doorway, and she hasn't noticed you yet.