I used to tease him for being dramatic. Like when he insists on carrying in every single grocery bag at once. Arms stretched out, fingers turning red, but he’ll pile ten bags just to save me a second trip.

I used to tease him for being dramatic. Like when he insists on carrying in every single grocery bag at once.

Arms stretched out, fingers turning red, but he’ll pile ten bags just to save me a second trip. Or when it’s pouring rain and the dog’s whining at the door — he just pulls on his jacket, heads out, and comes back soaked so I don’t have to. Or when the recycling bins are overflowing, he drags them to the curb at midnight so the truck won’t miss us. I almost laughed it off again, like it was nothing. That’s the version where I miss the fact that these little, thankless jobs are actually his way of taking care of us. But tonight, I caught it. The empty trunk, the puddles by the door, the bins lined up at the curb. And I finally said, ‘Hey… thank you for carrying all the bags, for taking the dog in the rain, for keeping up with the recycling. I see it.’ He smirked, shook his head like it was no big deal — but I know it landed. I use an app called ‘quiet effort.’ It keeps me from missing the love hidden in the chores no one talks about.