I am unlocking the door when it opens from the inside. I have been waiting for me to come home.
“You look exhausted,” I say.
“I am,” I reply, dragging my carry-on over the threshold.
I hug myself, a good long hug. It’s been too long.
“I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with him,” I say, “I was so hoping you’d be happy when you left.”
“I thought – “, I begin, and we both know what I had thought, so I don’t have to finish. Tears come, my face droops.
I have a tissue ready, just like that.
There are no words for a moment. I get that hopeless look in my eyes.
“You’re going to be okay,” I say.