On a lazy Saturday evening, I find myself laying in bed ready to binge read the entire Manhwa series I just added to my library. I prop myself up on my pillows with my fully charged Kindle and put in my earbuds tuned to my favorite lofi station. I’m seven chapters in when I’m distracted by the bedroom door opening and my husband carrying in a chair. He quickly sets it near my feet at the head of the bed. Before I can remove my earbuds to inquire, he’s out the door and then right back with a couple beers in hand.
“Hey, babe. What are you doing?” I ask.
He places the bottles on my nightstand and turns on the small lamp without responding.
He pauses to look at me for a minute then walks toward the door but only to turn off the main light. “I want you to put your reading away and lay on your back for me,” he says while walking over to his dresser.
“What?” I ask, a bit puzzled, as he’s looking in his drawer.