Archie
I heard the door stop, just before it clicked shut, and when I finally turned around, she was still standing there, her hand frozen on the handle, tears streaming silently down her face.
"Wait," I said, my voice raw, though I didn't fully understand what I wanted from her, whether I wanted her to stay or simply needed to say more before I let her go entirely.
She turned back slowly, her eyes red and swollen, waiting.
I paced away from her, toward the window, then back again, unable to settle, my mind spinning through months of memory at a speed I couldn't control. Every quiet evening in that kitchen. Every cup of tea prepared exactly the way I liked it. Every piece of advice about being patient, about earning trust, about honesty mattering more than anything else.
And beneath a
