Angie was towelling her hair when she heard the fifth stair creak, followed by the dull click of the front door.
Her smile drained away with the last of the water and she sighed, gazing at her feet.
Turning to the mirror she lifted her hair out of her eyes, chewed the corner of her lip and shook her head.
At least he'd made it through to the morning, which was probably a first.
She crept downstairs, pulling her robe tighter, wincing as her footsteps echoed in the quiet house.
Taking a deep breath, Angie pushed open the kitchen door.
A tablecloth was spread that she'd forgotten she had. On it a plate of croissants curled steam round her coffee plunger, flanked by two mugs.
He smiled, pushing across a mug of coffee, "You only had enough milk for one."
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