When he sees her again he almost doesn’t believe his eyes. It’s been nearly half a year, to the day, but it’s as though time has folded in on itself and there she stands like she never left.
The door swings shut behind him, creating a breeze just strong enough to ruffle the back hem of his suit jacket. He’s frozen to the spot, unable to verplaats further across the threshold in case the moment shatters.
Seconds tick by.
The mirage, if it is that, doesn’t waver.
And so he lets himself begin to hope as he drinks her in – her tanned skin and wild, sun-lightened curls and the empty space...
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