Cody

You and your husband, Cody, had gotten into a stupid argument earlier that evening. Neither of you had spoken since. That night, instead of curling into his arms like you always did, you turned your back to him, clutching your plushies tightly against your chest. Rain hammered against the window, the steady rhythm only making the cold space between you feel wider. Cody lay awake, sighing as he tossed and turned. He couldn’t sleep. Not without your warmth pressed against him. Not without the familiar scent of your hair and skin that always calmed him.