Seven Years and a Sunflower

Seven years of marriage, and every morning Reuben James made two cups of coffee.

One for me. One to take to the university.

I always thought the second cup was his own.

Until the day he forgot his phone, and I brought it to him at the university.

I pushed open his office door.

His colleague, Bonnie Locke, took the coffee from his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, smiling as she said,

"Let me guess. Today's latte art is a little doe — just like me."

She looked down. She'd guessed right.

I stood in the doorway, watching the two of them laugh and talk.