She’d been away for six weeks for work — longer than they’d ever been apart, long enough that the apartment had started to feel, when she finally came home, subtly wrong in the way of places that have been lived in without you.
He’d cleaned. Of course he’d cleaned — she’d expected that, knew him. But he’d also done the thing she hadn’t expected: he’d put her things back exactly where they’d been, not where it would have been more convenient for him to have them during her absence.
Her books were where her books went. Her mug on her side of the cabinet. The small pile of things she always left on the left corner of the bathroom shelf, maintained in the exact configuration she’d left it.
“You didn’t move anything,” Ingrid said, standing in the bathroom, something catching in her throat.
“No,” said Lars, from the doorway.
“You must have wanted the shelf space.”
“I didn’t want you to feel like I’d filled you in,” he said simply. “Like you’d need to reclaim anything. It’s your home.”
She set her washbag down on the left corner of the shelf, exactly where it always lived, and stood there for a moment.
Our places, she thought, our actual physical places in a shared home — the shelf space, the drawer, the designated chair — are a small, daily declaration. He had kept her place for six weeks. Had refused to let the apartment forget her.
She went to find him. He was already putting the kettle on, already knowing.
“Still my home,” she said.
“Always your home,” he said.
✦ Today’s Reflection
How do you hold space for your partner in your shared life — physically, emotionally, practically — when they can’t be fully present?
Love my writing? You can grab my books directly from my website or through my Amazon author page. When you purchase from my website, a larger portion of the sale goes directly to supporting my writing, allowing me to create more stories, mental health resources, and magical guides without relying on algorithms or advertising. You’ll also find exclusive bonuses, free reader gifts, and occasional special offers that aren’t always available elsewhere. If Amazon is your preferred bookstore, that’s perfectly fine too. Either way, thank you for supporting an independent author who spends an unreasonable amount of time talking to fictional people and turning it into books.
Leave a comment