His thoughtful eyes studied her tenderly, searching for the source of the lines around her tense smile. He must have seen the barrage of complaints people lodged her way, still pounding at the sides of her head.
Strong arms wrapped around her back to draw her in for a hug. Soft remnants of his cologne enticed her to curl into his chest. The scratch of the early evening whiskers tickled the line of her jaw.
Then he said, “I’ll make dinner.” She heard him hum the melody from their wedding song while he stirred the pot.
It was the best bowl of canned soup she had ever tasted.