The moment I stepped inside, there he was, coming out of the kitchen with a steaming plate of spaghetti, smiling like it was Christmas.
"Sweetie, you must be starving. Dig in!"
Catching sight of his rugged, good looks, still in his delivery digs, with bags under his eyes, he must be a step earlier home than me.
I was hit with a wave of affection, concern written all over my eyes.
"Babe, you work too hard. No need to stay up so late for me."
Eric's job in sales keeps him out until nine, but he's still hustling with food deliveries after hours.
It tears me up seeing him stretch so thin, and I've told him to cut it out.
But he just wraps me up in his arms, gives my hair a gentle tousle, and grins.
"Love, it's no sweat. I promise we'll be living large one day."
To sock away money for a house, everyday expenses and even socializing costs are on my tab.
His earnings? Locked away for our future home.
After a cozy night in, I showered and found Eric already deep in sleep.
Had I not seen that text on his phone, I might have stayed lost in this sweet illusion.
His phone buzzed relentlessly. I caught a glimpse, and a message from a certain Mandy lit up the screen.