Return

She sighed as she listened to the summer rain outside, the pattering of the droplets hitting her both with a comfort and a longing. She remembered the early days, running through the same weather as she ran to his arms, the humid frizzing her hair and making a mess of her, but neither of them cared.

Her eyes danced over the empty fireplace in front of her, long since gone out as the seasons changed, a few logs left next to it for the next winter to come, or fall if it was harsh enough. The walls were lined with pictures and paintings, passed to them both from their parents, and photos of their happiest days. A photo of a happy engagement and a happy marriage side by side.

Sitting down the couch puffed up slightly, adjusting to her weight as she lay her head on the armrest, listening out for the kettle to boil. The ring on her hand sat light and dainty, modest but holding one of the largest parts of her world. She wondered briefly if he ever did the same and caught himself playing with it, the silver glinting in the light of day or shining through the shadows at night.

They had been married for near 15 years now, she had thought as she poured the hot water, watching the granules swirl. She had been younger then, but no less the woman she was now. He had been loving, and kind, bringing her items of his love and thoughtfulness. They had made a home together in their cottage, a modest life but one they both enjoyed. Most days she was home, the odd visit from friends and family as the days moved on.

The objects of his affection lined the shelves and tables of their home, some older than others, reminiscent of the days they had first started their lives together. Soft flowers pressed into the pages of books, such books containing notes both of them had jotted down, and small items that had brought her to mind. There were all kinds of ornaments next to one another, small crystals and gems, jewelry boxes from foreign places, and photos of his trips. His photos were always picturesque of the scenery, often of fields or shores, places he wanted to take her to visit.

One such often caught her attention, one of the few with something other than pure nature in it. It was an open field, a sunset in the background, a bull in some erratic dance across it. Her eyes caught it frequently, an earlier picture that he had brought home with him, an image from each trip either put on the wall, such as this one next to a bookshelf, or placed into one of their many photo albums, a shelf lined of the hefty things.

She had heard the rain pick up, eyes catching the patterns on the window as her hand came up to brush her hair down, the wild nature of it earning a small frown from her. As hours passed she found herself with one such photo book in her lap, a soft smile on her lips as each page recounted their journey together, dates and small words of affirmation written on the back of each one.

As the clock ticked over to some time past 5:00pm she had heard the door briefly, heard turning to face it as it swung open, the man walking in soaked through thanks to the downpour outside. He had smiled a greeting to her, placing his things down and locking the door as she got up to meet him, the same elation to see him filling her heart that had been their through all their years together whether it was fifteen, ten or five.

He held her close, both swaying together before he made off to their bedroom to change, coming back dry and sitting next to her as she sat the book on the table. His eyes glanced over the pages, fingers lightly tracing them before he met her with a soft kiss, a comment to wait as he moved to his bag.

Returning to her he held a small box in his hand, something she took with a smile and opened, the earrings glinting up at her as he explained the source. They had spent the rest of the evening in each others arms, his story of his trip, the people he had met and work he had done like music to her ears. He had drank the now cold coffee as they spoke, their laughter echoing off the walls and night air slowly cooling, the stars coming up as they lit candles around the house.

With a whisper of love and message of ‘I missed you’ they had fallen asleep on the couch together, tucked into each other and surrounded by their life, the soft rain drifting off to merely a drizzle, coffee cups now empty next to one of the books of memories, a new photo of a sunrise sat next to it, ready to add the next day.