the past few moments

I am here on the couch, feet up, bowl of popcorn by my side, and I can hear the sound of sink water running and silverware clanging as Kevan loads the dishwasher. The water has shut off,  and he comes into the living room to fold some laundry. He gives me a sweet smile as he passes by. His Converse-covered feet shuffle back to the kitchen and the sink runs again. I now hear some scrubbing of pots and scolding of Lola...she got into the trash. I hear cabinet doors open and close, tings and bangs as he struggles to return each pot to its tiny, crowded home in our kitchen...but I don't hear him say a word. He doesn't come tell me how he wishes I was of more help this evening. He doesn't utter a complaint or even a sigh. 

But through all of his busyness, he is saying something to me. 

I hear you, Kev, and I love you, too.