He slid his foot under the quilt on Jane Sampson's side and pulled it down a bit, revealing her face. James Black then bent down, gently kissed her forehead, and closed his eyes to rest.
Jane Sampson didn't know exactly how long she had pretended to be asleep.
Maybe it was 30 minutes.
Or perhaps, one hour.
She knew James Black was pulling at her quilt, always worried that she might suffocate herself by sleeping this way.
But she had slept like this for over a decade; if she were going to suffocate, it would have happened a long time ago.
She also knew that James Black had stolen a kiss.
A seemingly random kiss on her forehead.
Was it possible that before, when she was asleep, he had also sneakily kissed her like this?
Was it that if she hadn't pretended to sleep today, she would have never known that when she was asleep, a man would sneak in such a kiss?
Listening to the soft breathing of the person beside her, Jane Sampson slowly sat up.
