She rested her hand lightly, gently, on her sleeping husband's arm, timing her breaths to his, long and slow and deep. The room was dark and quiet and warm. Safe.
Down the hall, their daughter slept; Jessa had looked in on her before coming to bed herself. Tiny little girl taking up a truly ridiculous amount of room on the bed, limbs akimbo, deep red hair fanned across the pillow. Mouth open, unselfconscious in sleep.
Her daughter, her husband.
Jessamyn rolled over, her hand falling on the cool sheets on her other side.
Her daughter. Her husband.
But not her best friend - her missing piece.