Sunday passed, and hours built to the middle of the following week. With the fair behind her and no set work agenda, Reesa could’ve drawn and painted at her leisure, but her concentration was fickle. Her mind was overrun with uncertainty and the idea that what she shared with Myko was ending before it began.
She was curled up on the living room sofa, partly awake, but mostly asleep, the day he returned. Her body snapped to attention at the sound of the front door opening.
“Hi,” she said. Drowsiness and nerves prevented further greetings.
Myko said nothing. Instead, he tossed his keys and driving gloves on his desk, came over so fast that she barely had time to react, and pulled her into his arms.
“Hi,” she repeated, whispering now.
He drew back to look at her. “Is that all you can say?” he asked softly. The mildly teasing question held a sadness.
Reesa couldn’t unhear his emotion, nor could she hide her own. “I’m sorry—”