The Moon Never Returns

Summary

I was stressed about my AI hackathon entry. My husband Toby, usually just beside me, set down his book, removed his gold-rimmed glasses, and took my laptop—something he’d never shown interest in before. He rolled up his sleeves, and in the glow of the screen, his fingers flew across the keyboard. In under a minute, he solved a problem that had stumped me for a month.

“Did you learn that recently?” I asked, my heart swelling, thinking he’d done it for me. He only smiled.

A man focused on his work is irresistible. I snapped a photo of his handsome profile and posted it online.