They sat on opposite ends of the love seat. Her legs were curled securely under her body; her arms wound tightly around her chest. He absently flipped channels on the television pausing only once on a Victoria Secret commercial.
The silence was broken by the ignorant buzz of his BlackBerry. As his fingers furiously typed a response she asked, “Do you love me?”
His perplexed blue eyes looked into her dead grey ones. “Of course I do. Why would you ask that?”
She stretched her legs and pushed herself off the couch. “It’s just nice to hear you say it once and a while.”