Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, painting delicate stripes across the rumpled sheets. Mary snuggled deeper into John's embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips. John, already half awake, smiled down at her. Her hair, a riot of sunshine curls, fanned across the pillow next to him.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he murmured, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.

Mary yawned, stretching luxuriously. "Morning," she mumbled, blinking sleepily at him. Her voice held the remnants of a dream, soft and melodic.

They lay in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the rare luxury of a morning without rushing. The weekend had been a whirlwind of laughter, shared meals, and stolen moments like this. Now, reality loomed large.

John stirred, the weight of responsibility settling on him. "I have that big client meeting this morning," he said reluctantly.

Mary pouted playfully, burying her face in his chest. "Do you have to go?"

John chuckled. "Unfortunately, yes. But I promise I'll make it up to you tonight. How about dinner at your favorite place?"

Mary peeked up at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "That depends. Are you offering to cook breakfast too?"

John groaned good-naturedly. "Alright, alright. You win. Pancakes sound good?"

The next hour unfolded in a flurry of activity. John, surprisingly adept in the kitchen, whipped up a batch of fluffy pancakes while Mary set the table. They ate, laughing and sharing stories, savoring the stolen moments before the day demanded their attention.

As John finished his coffee, a hint of regret lingered in his eyes. "I really need to get going," he said, rising from the table.

Mary walked over to him, her arms reaching out for a hug. "Go win over your clients, Mr. CEO," she said, her voice teasing but laced with a touch of sadness.

John held her close, his touch lingering. "I'll be thinking of you," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Reluctantly, John pulled away, grabbing his briefcase. At the doorway, he turned back, a playful glint in his eyes. "And hey, those pancakes were pretty good. Maybe you should consider a career change."

Mary laughed, swatting him playfully with a dishtowel. "Don't get too cocky, Mr. Bigshot. Your days of enjoying free breakfasts might be numbered."

John winked. "Challenge accepted, Chef Rose." And with that, he was gone, leaving the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air, a bittersweet reminder of their stolen morning together.

John's car pulled away from the curb, the tires crunching on the gravel driveway. Mary watched him go from the window, a small smile playing on her lips. The house felt strangely quiet after his departure, the silence broken only by the rhythmic hum of the refrigerator.

With a sigh, Mary turned away from the window and stretched, her arms reaching for the ceiling. Stretching always felt good, especially after a lazy morning spent in John's arms. A familiar melody drifted from the living room – the sweet, nostalgic tune of "Mr. Sandman" by The Chordettes.

Mary smiled. It was their song. The one that played softly in the background during their first kiss, a hesitant touch that blossomed into something more. Padding into the living room, she turned up the volume, letting the gentle melody fill the space.

Picking up a fallen throw pillow, Rose began tidying up the living room, the remnants of their breakfast scattered on the coffee table. As she worked, she hummed along to the song, her voice a soft counterpoint to the Chordettes' harmonies.

"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream," she sang under her breath, a playful smile on her lips. Maybe tonight, the dream would involve John, a candlelit dinner, and a slow dance in their living room, just like in their first kiss.

Dusting a picture frame on the mantelpiece, Mary's smile faltered slightly. John's dedication to his work was admirable, but it sometimes left her feeling a little lonely. She yearned for more of those stolen mornings, those shared moments of laughter and connection.

Pushing the thought aside, Mary finished cleaning the living room. The house gleamed, a testament to her efficient housekeeping skills. But even with the sparkling surfaces and tidy rooms, a part of her still longed for John's presence.

With another sigh, Mary decided to tackle a project she'd been putting off – organizing her overflowing bookshelf. Maybe getting lost in a good book would be the perfect distraction until John returned home, bringing with him the promise of another stolen moment, another chance to create a memory soundtracked by their song.

"Coming!" Mary called out seeing Rose knock on the Door, a playful lilt in her voice. Swinging open the door, she was greeted by Rose, her best friend, beaming like a ray of sunshine.

"Hey! Just finished my errands and thought I'd surprise you," Rose announced, holding up a brightly colored bag. "Any chance my favorite baking buddy is up for some cookie therapy?"

Mary couldn't help but laugh. "Always up for a baking session with you, troublemaker. Come on in!"

Rose, a whirlwind of energy, bustled into the apartment, immediately setting up a workstation on the counter. Mary grabbed their favorite mixing bowls, flour already dusting her fingertips with anticipation.

As they chatted about their days, laughter filled the air punctuated by the rhythmic thud of the mixer. John's departure was a mere blip in their conversation, replaced by plans for their upcoming weekend getaway and the new bakery they both wanted to try.

The kitchen became a haven of flour-dusted giggles and whispered secrets. They shared stories, debated the merits of chocolate chips versus chopped nuts, and argued (good-naturedly, of course) over who got to lick the leftover batter from the spoon.

By the time the aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the apartment, Mary felt a warm glow radiating from within. John's absence, a fleeting thought earlier, was completely forgotten amidst the joy of friendship and shared passion.

As they settled on the couch, warm cookies melting in their mouths, they scrolled through pictures of their upcoming trip, squealing in delight over hidden waterfalls and charming cafes.

"You know, Mary," Rose said, her voice filled with sincerity, "you always have this way of making even the most ordinary day feel like an adventure."

Mary squeezed Rose's hand, her heart full. "And you, Rose, have this way of making even the simplest things feel extraordinary."

With bellies full of cookies and hearts full of laughter, the two friends spent the rest of the evening making plans, dreaming big, and strengthening the bond that made their friendship so special. John's absence might have left a space, but it was a space filled with the promise of shared experiences and unwavering support, a testament to the power of true friendship.

The aroma of freshly baked cookies hung heavy in the air, a sweet counterpoint to the chirpy theme song of "Pet Lovers!" on the TV. Mary glanced at Rose, sprawled comfortably on the couch, one arm draped across her stomach, the other dangling a limp spatula. A soft snore escaped Rose's lips, a testament to the marathon baking session they'd just finished.

Mary chuckled, a silent victory dance playing out in her head. Rose, for all her boundless energy, had a weakness for sugar crashes. Glancing at the plate piled high with warm, gooey cookies, Mary couldn't resist. Picking up one, she savored the combination of melty chocolate chips and chewy dough.

"Mmmm," she murmured, guilt battling with pure deliciousness. Another cookie joined the first, then another. Mary, usually a stickler for portion control, found herself captivated by the heartwarming stories of adorable animals on "Pet Lovers!" and the irresistible call of the cookies.

Suddenly, Rose stirred, mumbling something incoherent about a talking hamster. Mary froze, mid-chew, a single cookie precariously balanced between her fingers. "Uh oh," she whispered, glancing at the rapidly dwindling plate.

"Mmm... cookies?" Rose mumbled, eyes still closed.

Mary's brain whirred. Blaming it on Rose wouldn't work. A desperate plan formed. Grabbing a glass of milk, she set it on the coffee table with a loud clink. "Here you go, sleepyhead," she said brightly.

Rose's eyes fluttered open, blinking at the plate. "Huh? Cookies?" she mumbled, confusion momentarily erasing sleepiness. "Did we already eat them all?"

"Almost," Mary said sheepishly, offering a hopeful smile. "But I saved you some milk."

Rose, ever the good friend, didn't seem to notice the missing cookies, happily reaching for the glass. "Thanks, Mary. You're a lifesaver!" she exclaimed, taking a long sip.

Mary let out a sigh of relief. Maybe Rose wouldn't notice, or maybe they could blame it on the "magical disappearing cookie monster" they often joked about. Either way, for now, Mary could enjoy the rest of the show and the last remaining cookie, savoring the sweetness of friendship and a touch of mischievous delight.