For the first few weeks after Eric moved in, life felt like the sweetest dream Hailey had ever experienced.
Every morning when she opened her eyes, she would see his sleeping face on the pillow next to hers.
Her heart would fill with such overwhelming happiness that she wondered if it was possible for a person to die from too much joy.
The reality of waking up next to him exceeded every fantasy she had ever allowed herself to have.
They fell into routines that felt both natural and magical.
Eric would attempt to make breakfast most mornings.
This usually resulted in something slightly burned or oddly seasoned.
"Okay, so I might have added a little too much salt," Eric announced one morning, holding up a frying pan with what used to be scrambled eggs.
Hailey walked over and peered into the pan, her eyes widening.
"A little?" she asked, trying not to laugh.
"Maybe a lot," Eric admitted, setting the pan down with a sheepish grin.
