Cuddles Over Coffee

Alex wakes with a post-it note slowly peeling away from the vaguely sweat-sticky skin on his forehead. “What the fuck,” he grumbles, rolling over in search of Henry—the only possible culprit unless Nora has broken in again.But he finds the bed empty and chilly on Henry's side, and his heart rate picks up without his permission. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and the post-it dislodges and flutters across his face and into the bedding. He opens his eyes. No need to panic yet, he reminds himself firmly (read: feebly); Henry at least left a note this time—a small consolation if he's gone and—Alex finds the square of baby blue paper and squints at it.