33. The Power Of Love

When I wake up in the morning, the bruise on my stomach is a mix of deep purple and black. It’s also a bit painful. I lay in bed for a while, letting everything from last night rush through my head.

I look at the empty space next to me. Jude said he had an early morning, so I’m guessing he already left. I didn’t hear him get up, and I always do.

It doesn’t matter what time he gets up, but I always end up awake at that time too. It’s like my body has a warning system to make sure I don’t miss him before he goes.

I must have really been winded last night to miss him this morning.

I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom. After that, I head to the kitchen in search of caffeine and an ice pack.

I stand still in our bedroom’s doorway when I see Jude sitting at the sparsely used dining table, holding a steaming cup in one hand and his phone in the other. He looks up when I show up.

“Morning,” he says.

I stare at him like he’s an alien invader for a few seconds. I thought he had left.