“I’m glad you kept the cottage,” he said.
“So am I.”
Inside, the wooden box rested on her bookshelf. The receipt was tucked among the letters now, one piece of a larger life.
When Eleanor grew tired, she said so. Ethan kissed her cheek, carried the cups inside, and went home.
She locked her door once.
Then she opened the bedroom window to the warm night, listening to the leaves move beyond her garden. Tomorrow Ruth was coming for lunch. Eleanor had peaches ripening on the counter and nothing she needed to prove before she could rest.
