He never said I love you.
He never needed to.
He said it in the way he pushed a heart shape into her bread before he toasted it.
He said it in the way he posted a photo of their garden at dawn every Monday, tagging her and telling her to have the best week.
He said it in the way he bought her a new pair of her favourite socks every month.
When they finally had to say goodbye, she knew she would miss those small actions that felt like a thousand I love yous.
Their own love language.
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