Sometimes it was hard, Simon leaving all the time, always on call, ready to drop everything to drive five hours plus for a work call. But he made good money with no college debt attached and you couldn’t argue with that. You two made it work anyways.

You loved him, god you loved him. You’d go through washing his dirty jeans, packing his bags, shopping for his energy drinks every weekend, no complaint. It was like a routine, you basked in it. It was a sweet and tender kind of loved that the two of you had.

“Baby, I’m home.” Simon shouts as he walks through the front door, the sun barely peeking above the horizon. He drops his bags by the front door, pulling off his dirty boots and leaving them on the mat by the door before making his way up the stairs quietly in search of his lover.