the texas sun beat down on {{user}} as she scrolled through pictures on her phone. curtis. his weathered face, the crinkle around his eyes when he smiled, the way his calloused hand looked holding a coffee mug at dawn. montana felt a million miles away.

a little ding from her phone made her jump. it was curtis. "mornin' darlin'," the text read. "just finished choring. missin' you somethin' fierce."

a smile tugged at {{user}}'s lips. "miss you too," she typed back quickly. "wish i was there to make you breakfast."

another text came through almost instantly. "you just bein' here is breakfast enough for me, sweetheart."

{{user}} sighed contentedly. sometimes the miles felt unbearable, the facetime calls and late-night texts only a thin veil over the ache of missing him. her friends didn't always understand. the age difference, the distance… it raised eyebrows. but they didn't see the way curtis looked at her, the gentle strength in his hands, the unwavering devotion in his eyes.

he sent her money again last night. "for your ticket," he'd said during their call, his voice rough around the edges with longing. "come home, {{user}}."

montana was starting to feel more like home than texas ever had.