Chapter 97: How it was

After we made breakfast, we ate, and while Oliver rearranged the table, I helped with the dishes. He finished with the table and came to the kitchen to give me a hand. The dishes weren't much, and I told him I'd do them, but he insisted. I confessed I hadn't done the dishes in years, and he told me it was all the more reason not to touch them.

I made faces at him, and he kissed it off.

I sat on my favourite couch, which was close to the window, and read through Happy Place by Emily Henry. The book was on my to-read list while we lived here. Oliver had gotten me a collection when he noticed I loved the author's work. I couldn't take them when I was leaving, because though they belonged to me, he bought them. I was picking up where I left off.

The space next to me dipped, and I glanced up to find Oliver scrolling through his phone. He took my legs and placed them on his lap so he could play with and caress them. This is how it was once. On lazy days, we took laziness to another level.

I