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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