He carried me over the threshold. That, in itself, was not an easy task.

I should have loved him for that alone, but I always wanted more.

“You missed a spot.” I twirled the just-washed glass around in the sunlight.

He reached to take it, but I smiled. “Let me.”

Susan Gale Wickes hails from the Midwest. She likes writing and daydreaming about where it might lead.