Monica woke to Owen's elbow softly nudging the middle of her back.

"Babe," his voice was small, "you need to wake up. Your alarm already went off twice."

Her eyes hurt to open as if she were running a sensitive finger underneath the flap of an envelope. It was dark in their bedroom, but she could see the light of the sun seeping through the edge of the curtains. She pressed the side button on her phone to check the time. She had only forty minutes to get ready. That is adequate time for some people, but she lived about twenty minutes from the daycare.

She flung the comforter off of herself with a pout.

"Hey," Owen protested. "I'm cold."

He shivered and tucked the comforter back around his body. Nestled in his cocoon, Monica envied Owen's carefree days at the apartment and around town with his band mates. She usually kissed his lips or forehead before she took her morning shower. She left the room without doing so. He had already fallen back asleep.

In the hallway, resting at the side of their bedroom door, was her purse and her tote bag. She had gotten home late the previous night. She drove to the park in town that had a hill overlooking the lake. She sat in her car with her thoughts for hours. Owen called. Pearl called. She finally got back to the apartment past midnight. Owen was up and sitting on the couch watching the television.

"Where the hell were you, Monica?"

Monica shook her head and put her things on the floor next to their bedroom. She was careful how she set her tote bag on the floor.

"I was just," she started, "I was just out. I went to see a movie and then I went to the lake."

Owen rose from the couch and listened. He looked into her eyes and believed her. It was not often, but she did like to go to the lake to think and be alone.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine," she looked down at the floor.

"Was work any better today?"

"Yeah. It was okay."

He nodded his head and turned the tv off. He held her hand and gestured to her for them to sit on the couch together. "Why did you want to be alone?"

Monica had options. She could tell him the truth, she could tell him a half-truth. Or she could lie.

She turned to face him and ran her fingers up and down his arm. His skin was cool to the touch and smooth.

"Astrid's death made me think how short life is. That's all."

Although she didn't want to, just the mention of Astrid's name made tears rise up in her eyes. Owen mistook her grief for seeking comfort, and he wrapped his arms around her. He brushed his nose against hers and whispered, "No matter how long or short, I want to live all of my life with you. You know that, right?"

Tears flooded her eyes. "Yes," she said."I know."

He smiled and moved his hands from her face to her shoulders. "I want to make you feel better. Can I?"

Monica sighed and nodded her head. Owen got up and sat behind her on the couch. He slid her jacket off and pressed his hands into her neck, giving her a massage. She allowed herself to breathe as he kneaded her muscles and caressed her skin. He couldn't resist touching her for too long without kissing her.

He lifted her shirt over her head and kissed her shoulders, one by one, then her neck on each side. Monica turned to look at him, and their lips played while his fingers unhooked her bra and traveled elsewhere.