He hesitated in the doorway. Not out of fear—54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLa1dtG7Lwb
But shame.
I recognized him before he stepped inside.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKhFlpYfgSX
The slope of his shoulders was heavier now.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYLaTW96GZk
His eyes searched the tavern like it might accuse him of leaving.
But we keep no clocks here.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnZIfU2rizc
And the door remembers no judgment.
“I thought it would be gone,” he said.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXqJbtEDQfx
“I thought you would be gone.”
I nodded toward his old seat. The one beneath the hook that once held his traveling cloak.
He sat. Slowly. As though waiting for something to break.
I had already started brewing before he arrived.
A cup for return. One that holds warmth longer than most.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNFmGQlfDi6
Crafted from emberleaf, driftcane, and a single drop of dew from a blade of grass found near the doorstep, long ago.
When I placed it in front of him, his hands trembled.
“You remembered,” he whispered.
“Of course,” I said.
He did not ask how long it had been.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK2jOvoLzTl
And I did not answer.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBdqnI3LSfx
Some reunions are measured only in presence.
When he finally smiled, it was quiet—like a wound remembering how to heal.
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