Did you come back?
She stood in front of the door.
Her hand trembled. Her keys were in her bag—right there, just within reach. But why was her heart pounding so fiercely?
She hadn’t been here in almost a year.
A deep breath. A pull.
The door gave way, and Jane stepped over the threshold.
Nothing had changed. Not the wallpaper, the sofa, or even the dust on the bookshelf. Everything appeared the same as before. But now, it wasn’t her home.
Andrew hadn’t come for her that last time.
He used to. He used to miss her. Searched for her with his eyes, reached out with his hands, claimed, “How I’ve missed you.”
But the last time—no.
He hadn’t called, written, or sought a meeting.
She only glimpsed him when he came for Sophie. Silently. Without words, without emotion. He just took their daughter by the hand and left.
Now, another man was persistently courting her, professing his love, and asking her to become his wife.
But Jane couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t.
Something was off.
She approached the wardrobe, opened its door.
The documents were there. She had carefully placed them before leaving.
And suddenly—movement in the room.
Jane turned sharply.
On the sofa… him.
Andrew.
He was asleep, deeply so, tired, unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes.
Her first instinct was to walk away.
But her feet seemed glued to the floor.
She looked at him, and something inside her stirred.
When had he become so tired, so distant, so somber?
Where was the Andrew she had once fallen in love with?
Where was his smile—bright, boyish, shining like the sun?
Jane sat down beside him.
Her fingers inadvertently touched the photograph under his hand.
A wedding album.
The photos softly fluttered to the floor.
Andrew opened his eyes.
For a few seconds, he simply looked at her, not blinking.
Then he suddenly whispered:
“Jane… you’re back?”
And she realized that just half an hour earlier, she could have left.
Forever.
