Bill got back. Emma was eagerly waiting for him.
Bill pushed open the door to their small apartment, the familiar creak greeting him like an old friend. The living room was dimly lit, bathed in the warm glow of a single floor lamp. Emma sat curled up on the couch in one of Bill’s oversized hoodies, legs tucked under him, a half-finished cup of tea on the coffee table.
He looked up as Bill stepped in.
“Hey,” Emma said softly, setting the cup down. “You’re back.”
“Yeah,” Bill replied, slipping off his shoes. “Sorry it took longer than I thought.”
Emma patted the spot beside him. “Come here,I missed you.”
Bill crossed the room and sank into the couch next to him, letting his shoulder press against Emma’s. There was a silence, not awkward, but full,weighted with the things they both kne
