I learned she liked the same bitter tea I did.

She learned I had inherited her impatience with slow traffic.

We laughed about it while waiting at a stoplight.

Later that night, I found Lucas in the guest room folding the last of his clothes into a drawer.

He’d moved back to our bedroom several weeks earlier, but he’d left some things behind.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like I’ve been carrying a suitcase for twenty-three years and someone finally told me I could set it down.”

He came nearer, stopping where I could decide whether to take his hand.