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Change for a dollar

In the middle of the night, I woke Steven up to tell him to roll over because he was snoring. Under the down comforter, his hand found mine and opened it. I figured he was going to hold my hand while he slept (something we do sometimes… I know, most of you just retched because it’s so cute), but instead he deposited something hot and heavy into my palm.

“Here,” he murmured. “I found that in my underwear.”

It was a quarter.

I threw it, figuring that it was saturated with unfortunate residue or some other vague schmeng that would give me nightmares. It hit the wall and fell behind the bed.

“Why did you throw that away? It was good money.”

He was already snoring before I could answer.

The whole thing was surreal. And apparently, there are some checks that his ass CAN cash. Imagine my surprise.