In a half-awake stupor she felt the other side of the bed to find it empty. Alarmed, she jumped up and surveyed the room, realizing he was not in it. His clothing, so thoughtlessly thrown to the ground the night before in a passionate transition from date to bed, was all gone.
She had a moment of startling alarm that she had been abandoned once again and sat up to lean against the headboard and analyze where things went wrong. She let him in her bed too soon. She laughed too much at dinner. Or not enough. Was it her outfit? Her perfume? Too much, too little? That’s when she noticed an odd scent sneaking into the room.
She tiptoed to the bedroom door and opened it a crack to peek into the kitchen, where she heard the sizzling of bacon and then recognized the lovely aroma of breakfast. She heard the toaster pop and closed the door with care.
As she climbed back into bed she rolled around a bit on her fluffy white comforter and smiled. This was a lovely moment she wanted to savor; maybe he was one of the good ones.
She heard the hallway floorboard creak, a warning that he was coming, and slid back into her original sleeping position, closed her eyes and feigned sleep as he opened the door with a tray of food, a breakfast in bed.