Avery sat on the couch with a blanket draped over her, glaring at the TV remote in her hand as if it had personally offended her. Sunny, their golden retriever, lay at her feet, looking up at her with curious eyes.
Ryan Hayes walked into the living room with two steaming mugs of tea. “Okay, here’s your chamomile tea, as requested, Your Majesty,” he teased, handing her the mug.
Avery took the cup, but her expression didn’t soften. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
Ryan froze. “Wait. You just told me you wanted chamomile.”
“I thought I wanted chamomile, but now I don’t,” Avery said, pouting. “I think I want hot chocolate instead.”
Ryan blinked, trying to keep a straight face. “Hot chocolate. Got it. Anything else while I’m at it? Marshmallows? Whipped cream? A sprinkling of fairy dust?”
Avery gave him a withering look. “Marshmallows and whipped cream, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Ryan repeated, turning back toward the kitchen, shaking his head but smiling.
Later that evening, Avery suddenly sat up, her eyes wide with urgency.
“Ryan,” she said, her tone serious.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, alarmed.
“I need pickles.”
Ryan stared at her. “Pickles? It’s 10:30 at night.”
“And?” Avery said, her expression unyielding.
Ryan sighed, grabbing his jacket. “Alright. Pickles it is. But if I come back and you decide you don’t want pickles, we’re going to have words.”
An hour later, Ryan returned, holding a jar of pickles triumphantly.
“I present to you, madam, the finest pickles in the land,” he declared dramatically, setting the jar on the coffee table.
Avery stared at it for a moment, her brow furrowed.
“What?” Ryan asked, his patience wavering.
“I think I want ice cream now,” Avery said sheepishly.
Ryan blinked. “Avery. Ice cream? After I just spent an hour hunting down these pickles?”
“I’m sorry!” she wailed, tears suddenly streaming down her face. “I can’t help it! I don’t even know why I’m crying right now!”
Ryan’s frustration melted away instantly. He sat beside her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay, Aves. I’ll get you ice cream. Don’t cry.”
“You will?” she sniffled, looking up at him.
“Of course,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’m at your service, even if it means running to the store five times a night.”
Twenty minutes later, Ryan returned with not one, but three different pints of ice cream: chocolate, strawberry, and mint chip.
“I didn’t know what mood you’d be in, so I got options,” he said, setting them down in front of her.
Avery’s face lit up. “You’re the best!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan said, flopping onto the couch. “Pick one before I eat them all myself.”
She grabbed the chocolate, digging in happily. After a few bites, she sighed.
“What now?” Ryan asked, glancing at her warily.
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “I just love you, that’s all.”
Ryan grinned. “I’ll take it. But you owe me for the pickle detour.”
The next day, Ryan walked into the living room to find Avery sobbing over a commercial featuring a puppy and a kitten.
“Aves, are you okay?” he asked, sitting beside her.
“Look at them!” she wailed, pointing at the screen. “They’re best friends, Ryan! They’ll never leave each other!”
Ryan bit back a laugh. “That’s… adorable?”
Avery glared at him. “Why are you laughing? Do you think their friendship isn’t serious?”
“No, no,” Ryan said quickly, holding up his hands. “I’m fully invested in their friendship. They’re soulmates. I get it.”
She sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Good. Because if you don’t cry over that, you have no soul.”
Ryan made a mental note to cry over every commercial from now on.
One afternoon, Avery texted Ryan while he was at work.
I NEED PIZZA. Pepperoni, mushrooms, olives. NOW.
Ryan replied immediately. Got it. Be home in 30.
When he arrived with the pizza, Avery greeted him at the door, her expression stormy.
“What took you so long?” she demanded.
“I came as fast as I could!” Ryan said, holding up the box like a peace offering.
She grabbed it, opened it, and immediately started eating. “You’re forgiven,” she mumbled through a mouthful of pizza.
Ryan laughed. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”