Quiet Love on a Tuesday

I fell in love with him on a Tuesday. Not the dramatic kind you see in movies.

The quiet kind that sneaks up on you like fog rolling into a harbor. We worked in the

same cramped office for two years before I even learned his middle name. James.

He always arrived exactly seven minutes early, carrying the same thermos of black

coffee, wearing sweaters with holes in the elbows he never bothered to fix.

I noticed him the way you notice the changing seasons. Gradually. Then all at once.

It started with small things. The way he'd leave sticky notes on my desk when I worked

late. How he remembered I hated fluorescent lights and always turned on the lamp