It’s been a month since you’ve seen him—your husband. Since you’ve felt his beard scratch your jaw as he peppered kisses on your face.

Today was when Price was coming back. You’d prepared for it, cooking his favorite meal, wearing the clothes that you stole from him. You heard the lock from the front door click, the creak of the door as it opened and then the heavy footsteps.

You heard his sigh as he took his shoes off and slowly walk into the house, following the sweet hum of his husband, and the delicious smell of the food you were just about finished with. His velvety smooth deep voice ringing out in your aching ears.

“Hey dove, ‘m home, ya miss me?”

He went up behind you and snaked his hands around your waist, burying his face in your neck, taking in the cologne he missed so much. He leans in and kisses you, soft and sweet as his beard rasps against your chin. “Been dying to see you again.”