He isn’t there and her hand lands on something that crackles and feels slightly squishy. Sitting up, blinking in the bright gloom of the room, she looks at the bedside clock, its dull red numbers displaying 10:56. The late-morning sun makes her blink against the brightness, even though the drapes are pulled tightly shut. She sniffs and snacks her lips, blinking herself awake, as she looks to see what her hand touched. Lying on the bed, propped on his pillow, is a large bouquet of fresh cut flowers, wrapped in a crinkly plastic like paper and tied with a bow. She smiles and looks around the room again. “Ryker?” she calls, but no one answers. Rubbing at her face with one hand as she stretches and yawns. She listens for the shower, but the room is quiet. She stumbles to her feet, noticing that their clothes are missing from the floor, and enters the bathroom, scratching at herself. Where could he be? She is still brushing her teeth with she hears the door unlock and Ryker enters, a bag in one hand and a carton of something in the other.
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