When Julian Donovan woke up the next morning, she was no longer beside him. The suit and shirt he planned to wear today hung neatly on a hanger by the headboard, her gown hanging right next to them. It was as if he had returned to those years when she took such thoughtful care of him—waking up each morning to a perfectly pressed and coordinated outfit, then going downstairs to find a delicious breakfast waiting for him.
Sure enough, when he had finished getting ready and came downstairs, she was just placing the last side dish on the table. Their two children were already seated properly at the dining table, dressed in brand-new formal attire. He was taking them with him to the ceremony today, where he would announce their relationship to the world.
He walked over, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her forehead. "Why didn't you sleep in a little longer?" he said softly. "I could have made breakfast."
