Twenty Years Later

Everything belongs to Dorothy L. Sayers.

It was morning – the birds sang outside their window, the sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtain, and beneath them she could hear the cook getting breakfast ready. Yes, this morning seemed like every other morning – except it was not.

Harriet had always liked fresh flowers, and often there would be a vase sitting on her vanity. This morning was no exception. Her clothes were laid out neatly, ready for her to call the maid to help her dress. Her husband slept soundly beside her, as usual. What, then, was different about today?

As she climbed out of bed she remembered, and, walking to her husband's side of the bed, felt absolutely no compunction in waking him with soft, gentle kisses. He had aged well, and looked the better for the silver hair that now showed at his temples.

'Good morning,' she said quietly, her deep voice much the same, and as beloved by him, as it had been when they had first met.

He smiled at her, still amazed that they were married, even all these years later. 'Good morning.'

As he moved over slightly so that she could rejoin him in bed, she pressed another tender kiss to his lips.

'Happy anniversary,' she whispered, embracing him.

He kissed her hair lightly, holding her slim form against his. 'Happy anniversary.'