I. OLD SWEATER

[In which he's in his trailer on set while she's laying on her bed, wearing his old sweater.]

"Did you know you left your sweater here before you left?"

"Oh yeah? Which one?"

"The blue one. That one you wore for my birthday. I'm wearing it. Hope you don't mind."

"No, no. Wear it all you want."

"It smells like you, if I even remember what that smell is."

"And what do I smell like?"

"Home."

"Home?"

"Yeah. You're my home, Tom."

"You're my home, too, Rosie."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is the shortest chapter of the entire short story guys, and I promise the next nine will be longer but definitely less than 500 words (except maybe the last chapter), because this is, in fact, a short story.