No suggestion that declining one visit meant rejecting him.

He kissed my cheek, asked me to call if the plan changed, and left.

I locked the door and stood for a moment in the quiet house.

There were work papers on the table.

A small pile of laundry waited in a basket.

My phone showed a reminder about an appointment and a message I could answer in the morning.

The life around me did not look like a fortune had solved it.