Rebecca opened her eyes in the dark. She saw him lying on his side, his back turned, leaving a careful distance between them, as if he feared causing her harm by mere closeness. Something warm loosened in her chest. She had expected obligation. Instead, she found gentleness.
The next morning, sunlight spilled across the floorboards. A tray sat on the kitchen table with toast, eggs, and a cup of warm milk. Beside it lay a note in neat handwriting.
“I went to repair a customer’s television. Do not go out if it rains again. I will return for lunch. Daniel.”
Rebecca read the note several times. Tears gathered in her eyes. She had cried many nights because men had left her. That morning she cried because someone stayed.
That evening, Daniel came home smelling of solder and oil. Rebecca sat waiting on the worn sofa, hands clasped tightly.
“Daniel,” she called softly.
He looked up, uncertain. “Yes, Rebecca.”
“Come sit beside me.”
He walked over slowly, his limp steady and familiar. Rebecca met his gaze, heart pounding.
“I do not want us to be strangers sharing a bed,” she said. “I want us to be husband and wife in truth, not only in name.”
Daniel froze, disbelief written across his face.