“You don’t need permission to come home.”
Her eyes filled.
“I know.”
I waited.
“But you do need to understand that coming home doesn’t mean we never discuss hard things.”
She nodded.
“I do.”
“Then yes.”
Lauren started crying again.
I reached for her.
She hugged me.
We stood beside the car while a delivery truck passed behind us.
For the first time since the wedding, the hug didn’t feel like one of us was trying to stop the other from speaking.
It felt ordinary.