The Little Things in Love

It started with the little things.

It always started with the little things. A bathroom seat up. A clump of dirty dishes unwashed in the sink. The back window of their tiny little apartment left wide open despite the tenth time June has complained about it being both a safety and temperature concern. 

Then came the fights. The calm before the storm, followed by the yelling and screaming and sniffling alone in a dark, bedroom corner. 

Whatever—June was used to it at this point.

June owned and ran a small coffee shop during the day, while Miles was a radio show host at night. While June got up in the morning to open up the shop, Miles was just asleep for at most a few hours. June would return home late afternoon, and they would have a little time together to watch a movie and have dinner, before Miles would get ready for work.

June thought that this was a system that worked for them. She thought Miles had thought so too—until recently. 

After the countless fights every early dusk, June avoided going home, as did Miles. June would go home, purposefully ignoring Miles and going directly to the bathroom to take her shower. Miles would be locked away in the bedroom, and June could only hear the tip tap of his keyboard at times. 

June really didn’t like this. She didn’t know where they went wrong. 

Was it pure frustration that built up to a breaking point, or something else?

Maybe meeting half-way wasn’t working as well as they thought. Now, all they were greeted with was silence. 

June sighed as she opened up the fridge. Checking the small, antique clock she and Miles had bought a marketplace, she pursed her lips. It was already 11 p.m., and Miles would be starting the radio soon.

Shaking her head, June took out some leftovers from the night before. She and Miles had gone out to a small, pasta restaurant in hopes of having a conversation. But Miles seemed tired and June hadn’t felt like pushing the conversation forward, so the dinner went by quietly and before they knew it, June was asleep in bed as Miles started working again.

June looked at the takeout box with disdain. The pasta wasn't as good as she had hoped it would be, and she could imagine the soggy leftovers were even less appetizing. Sighing, June opened up the box, only to have it be filled with not oily pasta, but what seemed like homemade lasagna. 

Frowning, June leaned in closer to examine the mysterious lasagna, poking at it with her fork. She then noticed the small, sticky note on the microwave. 

You didn’t like the pasta last night, so I made lasagna with that recipe you liked before. Microwave it for two minutes on low power and it should be good.

-Miles

June peeled the sticky note off of the microwave, biting her lower lip as she took another look at the pasta. She didn’t think Miles had noticed. 

Come to think of it, June thought as she followed Miles’ directions and pushed the lasagna in the microwave, Miles always paid the closest attention to detail.

Whether it was offering June his jacket when she shivered just a bit in slightly cold weather or bringing her cold medicine and hot soup when she was feeling a headache, Miles always cared for her no matter what.

June thought the lasagna was perfect, and she went to sleep that night, happiest she’d been in a while.

… 

Miles usually came home around 2 a.m., and by then he was too tired to take a shower or eat. He would go straight to bed next to June, who was well asleep by then. 

Miles sighed as he walked through the door, rubbing his eyes as he quietly turned on the lamp in the living room. He had been let off early today, around 12 p.m. after an unexpected power outage. 

Miles should be happy about it, but he only felt a sense of hesitance as he glanced at the closed bedroom door. 

Whatever. 

Miles made his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge door. In the dark and cramped kitchen, Miles’ face was only lit by the flickering bulb of their old fridge. 

June never pestered him about buying a new one—something Miles still felt guilty about—as money was tight enough for rent and groceries. 

Miles abs June scrapped just enough every month, but they didn’t care as long as they were together. 

Or at least Miles had thought. 

He didn’t know when the fights and cold shoulders first started, but he hoped he knew when it would end. 

Miles couldn’t blame June—he worked ungodly hours and she never once complained about it. On top of running her coffee shop, she did her part of housekeeping items, usually even more. The only reason Miles could keep this job was because of June. 

Peering in the fridge, he noticed the takeout box that he had put the lasagna in. He hoped June liked it. 

Miles took out an apple, rinsing it briefly under the tap and biting into it. 

He would sleep on the couch tonight. 

Miles woke up with the sun hitting his face from the window, and he slowly opened his eyes. Glancing down, he realized there was a blanket on top of him, and a pillow from their bedroom stuffed under his head. 

Miles yawned, stretching his legs out. A night on the couch always gave him back and shoulder aches, but he would always find a heat pad on the glass coffe table bedsides him in the morning. 

Reaching over, Miles blinked as his fingers brushed over a sticky note on the heating pad. 

Good morning, Miles. 

I brought back some beans from the shop yesterday, but we didn’t get the chance to drink it yet. I made some fresh pastries this morning and they should still be warm. 

Roast is still your favorite French roast and it goes well with the chocolate bread I made. 

Have a good day :)

-Junie 

Miles felt himself relaxing as he read the note, and he padded over to the kitchen where June had put the coffee beans in the patterned tin can they had bought for her shop, but never ended up using it. 

A whiff of warm, freshly made pastries made its way to Miles’ senses, and Miles gave a small, but fond smile at the mess of flour and chocolate June hadn’t had the time to clean up. 

So Miles enjoyed a nice French roast and some chocolate bread in the morning. Afterwards, he washed his dishes in the sink, as well as cleaning up June’s baking process. 

He knew what he had to do. 

… 

“Welcome home.” 

June blinked at Miles, who was standing at the door, waiting for her and taking her coat. 

“Thanks?” June gave a confused glance as she let Miles take her bag as well. 

“How was work?” 

“Good,” June sat down in the chair at their small dining table. “I asked Mia to take over tomorrow, since you’re off for the weekend.”

Miles smiled, and June couldn’t help but let the corners of her mout rise along. Miles wasn’t someone who smiled a lot, but when he did, June felt the most comforted. 

“Good. I...actually had something to tell you.”

June swallowed as she watched Miles sit down besides her, a thousand worst case scenarios running through her mind.

Was this it? Another calm before the storm? 

“I don’t have to work at night anymore.” Miles said, taking June’s hand with conviction. “I talked to my boss, and they said I can work normal day hours since I’ve done well during the nighttime shows.”

June couldn’t keep her excitement, jumping up—pulling Miles along with her—and squeezing his hand so hard he winced a bit (albeit with another smile). 

“Really? They let you?” June’s eyes were comically wide as she jumped up and down, and Miles looked down at her, the smile never leaving his face. 

“Really.”

“I-I’m so happy,” June sighed, pulling Miles into a hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been so annoyed recently. I guess it was the hours and not being able to communicate for shit.”

Miles laughed gently, pulling back and looking at her. “It’s my fault too. I’m sorry you had to put up with my crazy work hours for so long, and that I couldn’t take the time to actually talk things out.”

“But even so,” June pouted up at Miles, “You did so many things for me. You didn’t have to but you did, and I know how tired you are.”

“You’re acting like you haven’t,” Miles grinned, and June rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Anyways, this was a good lesson, if anything.” June said, and Miles nodded. “Next time, we’re talking things out instead of ignoring each other.”

“Of course. It’ll be much easier too.” Miles led June back to the table, where he had prepared good pasta and wine. “But for now, let’s eat.”

Neither June or Miles’ smile left their faces that night, and for the first time in a long time, June could sleep knowing that Miles would be there, right beside her, when she woke up. 

It’s the little things that started the fight, and it’s the little things that ended it.

There are a lot of ways to say “I love you”, and who said it had to be in a big and drastic way? 

June and Miles sure as hell didn’t think so.