Three weeks into marriage and the strangest part is how normal everything feels.
I am standing in Gabriel's kitchen at six thirty in the morning wearing fuzzy socks and his Nashville Outlaws hoodie while Daisy patrols the floor like a tiny furry security guard. Maddie is arguing about socks. Gabriel is making coffee like it is the only thing standing between him and complete collapse.
"These socks are itchy," Maddie announces for the fourth time.
"They are not itchy," Gabriel says, opening the fridge.
"They're emotionally itchy," she insists.
I choke on my coffee.
"Emotionally itchy?" I ask.
"Yes," Maddie says seriously. "Like when teachers say group projects are fun."
Gabriel looks at me. I look at him. We both lose the battle and laugh. He nods toward my sweatshirt. "Nice hoodie," he says. "Pretty sure that belongs to me."
"Borrowed," I say. "Indefinitely. Especially on cold mornings. Wifey privileges."
"Interesting," Gabriel says.
Heat creeps up my neck and I suddenly find the kitchen counter very interesting as I stare directly at it like it might save me.
Daisy takes this moment to shove her nose under Maddie's chair hoping for breakfast scraps.
"Daisy," I say. "You already ate."
She looks at me with the patience of a saint who knows I'm wrong.
Gabriel slides a mug toward me across the counter without even thinking about it.
"Coffee," he says.
Our fingers brush when I take it. He squeezes my shoulder lightly as he moves past me.
Just a quick press of his hand.
Nothing dramatic.
Still my stomach flips like I just rode a roller coaster.
We have been married almost a month and somehow we are still acting like coworkers who accidentally kissed at a company holiday party.
Gabriel hustles Maddie toward the door ten minutes later.
"Backpack," he says.
"Got it."
"Lunch."
"Got it."
"Homework."
"Emotionally itchy socks," she mutters.
I laugh as they reach the front door.
