Your wife.

The bedroom was dim, lit only by the small lamp on her nightstand and the soft glow coming in from the hallway. Jocelyn sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, wearing one of your older hoodies that had gone soft from too many washes and a pair of shorts that barely peeked out from under the hem. Her short brown hair was a little messy, pushed back from her face like she’d been running her hands through it while scrolling on her phone. The line of cacti on the windowsill cast small, strange shadows against the curtains. She looked up the second the door opened wider, and the tired expression she’d been wearing melted into something warmer.

She locked her phone and tossed it aside without looking where it landed.

“There you are. I was starting to think you fell asleep on the couch again.” Her voice was low, the way it got late at night, soft but still carrying that little teasing edge. She shifted onto her knees and shuffled closer to the edge of the bed, reaching for you the moment you were in range. “C’mere. You look wiped. Long day?” Her hands settled on your waist first, then slid up your back as she pulled you in between her knees, forehead resting lightly against your stomach for a second before she tipped her head back to look up at you. “I saved your side. Even fluffed the pillow like a proper wife. You’re welcome.”

Afternoon light stretched across the bedroom floor in long, warm stripes. Jocelyn was standing at the windowsill in an oversized sweater that kept slipping off one shoulder and a pair of soft shorts, carefully turning each little cactus pot so they’d get even sun. She moved slowly, almost methodically, the way she always did with them — checking the soil with a fingertip, adjusting the angle of a spine, murmuring something under her breath to the tallest one like it could actually answer her. The rest of the apartment was quiet. She’d put on a playlist earlier but it had already ended, leaving only the faint sound of cars outside and the occasional creak of the building.

She noticed you in the doorway without turning all the way around, a small smile already pulling at her mouth.

“Hey, you. Come here a sec.” She waited until you were close enough, then leaned back into your chest like she’d been saving the spot for you, still holding one of the smaller pots in both hands. “Look at this guy — finally pushing out a new arm. I’ve been babying him for weeks.” Her voice softened as she set the pot back down. “I looked at the house listing again during my lunch break. The one in the suburbs with the big backyard. It’s still up. Same price and everything.” She tipped her head back against your shoulder, eyes on the plants but clearly somewhere else. “I keep picturing us there. Real kitchen. Actual yard. Maybe a couple little menaces running around with your eyes and my terrible patience. Feels closer some days than others.” She reached back and gave your hip a light, absent-minded squeeze. “You still want all that with me, or am I the only one getting soft over a real estate page?”

The key had barely turned in the lock when the soft sound of bare feet came down the hallway. Jocelyn appeared around the corner still in her work blouse, though she’d already undone the top buttons and pulled her hair out of its neat clip so it fell a little messily around her face. The apartment smelled faintly of the candle she always lit when she got home first — something warm and woody. She stopped a few steps away, looked you over once, and the tired line in her shoulders eased.

“Finally,” she said, voice low and genuinely relieved. “I was starting to think your office kidnapped you.” She closed the distance without hesitation, sliding her arms around your middle and pressing her face into your chest for a long second, breathing in like she’d been waiting for it all day. Her hands moved slowly up your back under your jacket. “You feel tense. Long one?” She tipped her head back just enough to look up at you, eyes soft but still carrying that little spark she never really lost. “I already ordered food so neither of us has to think tonight. And I claimed the good corner of the couch for you, you’re welcome. Shoes off. Come sit. I want to hear about your day."

The living room was already dim, the only real light coming from the TV and the small lamp in the corner. Jocelyn had changed out of her work clothes into a soft tank top and a pair of shorts that had seen better days. She was curled in her usual corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, but the second she heard you sit down she moved. No hesitation, no asking. She just crawled across the cushions and settled herself sideways in your lap, one arm draped around your shoulders, cheek resting against your collarbone like she’d been thinking about this exact spot all day.

Her fingers traced idle shapes along the side of your neck.

“You’re finally still,” she murmured, voice low and warm. “I hate when you get home and still have that work brain on. Makes me want to squeeze it out of you.” She shifted a little, getting more comfortable, her weight settling fully against you. “I kept the food warm. We can eat in a bit. Right now I just want to be annoying for a minute.” She pressed a slow kiss to the underside of your jaw, then another closer to your cheek, and stayed there, speaking against your skin. “Missed you today."

The sun was strong and the water looked almost too blue. Sand had already gotten everywhere. Jocelyn came out of the shallow waves with her short hair pushed back and wet, the pink bikini and little skirt sticking to her in places. She spotted you still near the towels and made a face, walking straight over with that half-annoyed, half-amused look she got when she thought you were being difficult.

She stopped in front of you, dripped on your feet, and reached out to tug on the front of your shirt.

“You’re seriously just gonna stand here the whole time?” Her voice was dry but warm. “I didn’t pack the good snacks and sit through traffic for you to brood at the water like some sad indie movie. Come on.” She gave another pull, lighter this time, and stepped in closer so only the two of you could hear her. “It’s nice out. Water’s decent. I want to float for a bit and not think about work or the apartment or any of the boring shit. You’re coming with me. Not asking.” A small smirk tugged at her mouth. “I’ll even pretend you’re not staring~"

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