The front door clicked open. His footsteps moved through the kitchen and up the stairs.
I waited five minutes that felt like hours before creeping back to bed. He was already there, covers pulled up to his chin, breathing the steady rhythm of someone fast asleep.
“Dave?” I whispered.
“Mmm?” He rolled toward me, his eyes heavy with fake drowsiness.
“Everything okay?”
“I got up to use the bathroom. Where were you?”
“What do you mean? I’ve been right here.” He reached for me, his hand still warm from touching her.
“Come here.”
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