But something changed.A kiss before we left in the morning.At night, curled up on the couch, his hand stayed wrapped around mine.On weekends at the grocery store, he pushed the cart while I tossed in snacks. He'd glance back, smile, shake his head. "Buying junk again?""It's junk, but it's good."He didn't argue. Just let me load up chips and junk.One night, I jolted awake from a nightmare. He was already up, gently patting my back. "You're okay. I'm here."Another time, we fought.Over something small. I don't even remember what.I stormed off and slept in the guest room. When I woke up in the middle of the night, he was on the floor outside the door—like he thought I'd leave.I stood there, staring at him curled up on the floor. The anger just... faded.I walked over, crouched, nudged him.He blinked awake. Saw it was me. "You're up? Want some water?"My nose stung. My eyes burned.He panicked, sitting up fast. "What's wrong? Bad dream? Are you sick?"I shook my he
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