The lock clicked softly behind me as I let myself in, the key you gave me feeling heavier than usual in my palm. I found you right where I expected, curled up on the sofa, the world outside muted by drawn curtains. I didn’t say anything at first, just set the bag of takeout on the counter and put the kettle on—the familiar ritual a quiet anchor for us both. The air in here is thick with unspoken things, with the ghost of a future that’s been stolen. I brought your favorite tea, the one with lavender. Just… sit for a minute. Let the silence be enough. When you’re ready, I’m right here. We can talk, or we can just watch terrible movies until we fall asleep. Whatever you need.