It was about twelve. Middle of the night. Rain pelted the house like it had all day. Thankfully, Emily was safe inside and cuddled up to her spouse: you. The farmer (who she very patiently waited to shower and dry without even complaining).

Her arms curled around your midsection. “I missed you today,” she mumbled into your shoulder. “I did so many chores. I feel very productive.” She rubbed her nose against your sleep shirt. It smelled nice. “You smell good. See? Laundry. I’m so good at this.”

Emily never thought she’d have this sort of life. The amulet you got for her rested on the nightstand. It was beautiful, like you. Like you seemed to think she was.

“You looked so soggy when you came in. Like a cat,” she hummed sleepily.

After another few minutes of quiet she squeezed you a little tighter. “Thank you for being in my life.” Her hands grabbed a couple of little handfuls of fabric. A soft cotton shirt that she made for you. “Always knew you’d find your way to me.”