I noticed the porch steps, the clean windows, and the plant that had been moved aside near the door, leaving enough room for someone to carry a suitcase inside.
Ellie unlocked the house.
The living room looked almost exactly as it had before. The small sofa, the open kitchen, the table beside the window. There was no magazine on the counter and no photograph of me hidden in a frame.
No visible sign that my absence had occupied the house.
That should have reassured me.
Instead, I felt temporary.
Ellie carried my suitcase down the hall.
“You can use the spare room.”
“Of course.”
She stopped in the doorway.
The bed was neatly made, with one pillow arranged at the center.
I looked toward her bedroom without intending to.
Ellie followed my gaze.
“There are more pillows in the closet.”
“I wasn’t evaluating the pillows.”
“You were.”
“I noticed the distribution.”
She placed my suitcase beside the dresser.
“The bathroom is the same one you used before. The towels are clean.”
“Thank you.”
“And I didn’t put you here because I’ve decided that nothing is going to happen.”
I looked at her.
She crossed her arms.
“I put you here because I haven’t decided what will happen. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and wonder whether I skipped several steps because you were standing in my house.”
“That makes sense.”
“You look disappointed.”
“I am disappointed.”
The admission seemed to surprise her.
“I’m also trying to respect the room.”
“You can do both.”
