He hesitated in the doorway. Not out of fear—15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJqLsAovoKk
But shame.
I recognized him before he stepped inside.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcFDOnPR1JR
The slope of his shoulders was heavier now.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9U7ju9vGMh
His eyes searched the tavern like it might accuse him of leaving.
But we keep no clocks here.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡONB96ILKLs
And the door remembers no judgment.
“I thought it would be gone,” he said.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFjWSKePzdX
“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.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjuTuMQJWoJ
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.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdZkky3RSO9
And I did not answer.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvBoNjVbInr
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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