He watched her sleep for a minute before he had to leave for the early shift. Hair across her face, one hand fisted under her chin like a child. The cat was on the blanket by her feet, judging him. Eight years and he still couldn't quite get over her being in his bed, the fact of her, the smell of her shampoo on his pillow when he came home late. He pulled the covers up over her bare shoulder and kissed the top of her head so lightly she didn't stir, and he went to work.