He smiled at the cheery table his wife had set. She seemed so much better since her rest at the hospital last month. He wished she wasn’t so troubled over the past, and that vile gossip in town that refused to die down, but regardless he felt determined to be a loving partner. He’d made sure she’d be provided for if anything happened to him; he was much older, after all.
“Try my sweet apricot jam,” she urged. “It’s a special recipe from a new friend.”
He spread it thickly on his bread. “Thank you, Lizzie. It smells wonderful.”
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