She woke up Saturday to his arm around her.

Not her bed — his. She had fallen asleep there Friday night, talking, and at some point the talking had stopped and the sleeping had started and she had woken up twice in the night and both times felt entirely fine about where she was and gone back to sleep.

Now it was morning and the light was coming through the window and his arm was around her and she lay still and felt the room and felt him breathing behind her and felt something she had been circling for seven weeks settle into its actual shape.

She turned over.

He...