Mara
He wasn’t supposed to come back.
That was the whole point.
Distance.
Less visibility.
He said it's for more safety, I told myself I agreed with it, that I understood the logic, yet I still found myself checking the driveway twice before bed. He didn’t text or call, and that silence crawled under my skin with a bite worse than any loud-mouthed fight we’d ever had.
By ten thirty, Lily was asleep.
By eleven, I was pacing.
By eleven fifteen, I was angry.
Not at him.
At the space.
At the way it already felt like loss.
Then, headlights cut a sharp, sudden across the ceiling.
My heart jumped before I could talk it down. I moved to the window, peeling back the curtain just enough to see the silhouette of his bike.
He killed the engine immediately no rev, no announcement—just a
