“We’ll wait.”

Michael kissed the top of my head and carried his coffee to the sink.

“That’s my sensible girl.”

I used to enjoy that phrase.

That morning, I put my cup down without finishing it.

A brass house key lay beside the budget.

I had planned to leave it on Michael’s ring before we went out.

The key had been mine since I moved into the rented house, and I had kept it even after Michael made a second copy for himself.