Joel hardly took family photos, only things on disposable cameras for trips. Developed them and kept them in his office or his wallet or something like that.

When he married you a life’s years after his ex-wife called for a divorce, he expected things to be smooth. And they were. They were so smooth and calm that he wasn’t used to it. He was so grateful to have that kind of stability for himself and for Sarah.

And the bonus was that you were a photographer. Free family pictures, is what he always says. You were more than happy to oblige, carrying your camera everywhere anytime there was an outing or just when things were content. Taking pictures of Sarah when Joel couldn’t make it to her soccer games and holding them close.

You carried a Polaroid on dates when it was just you and Joel. Took pictures of him anytime it was just right. He had no idea what you did with the photos when they developed. You just waited, showed him briefly, cracked a joke and stuffed in your purse.

It was only until he was in your shared office one day, rummaging through the drawers of your desk, looking for something and muttering to himself when he found all the Polaroids. They were in a little photo book with his name written in your curly handwriting on the front. He was looking through it for a moment when he settled on one he particularly liked.

You were both getting ready for a date night you’d called his attention while he was buttoning up his shirt. You’d caught the picture right as he looked at you. Written on the little white space was, again, his name in your curly handwriting with the date right next to it, 2/14/08 and a heart right next to the date. It was their little Valentine’s Day dinner they had earlier in the year.

The one thing that really caught his eye was the faded rd lipstick kiss mark on the corner of the Polaroid. I grins a little, taking it out of the sleeve and shoving it in his back pocket just in time for you to come into the office,

“You find the thing you were looking for?” You ask, raising a brow as you se him sitting in your desk chair holding the little photo book,

“No, But i found somethin’ else.”