Her eyes were shining, but not only with tears. There was anger there, sleeplessness, desire not yet dead and ashamed of that fact.

“And who do you go back to,” she continued, “when you’ve already lost yourself?”

The question was not only about him. That was the worst part. It was about both of them. Because in stories like this, it is not only the one who leaves and returns who gets lost. It is also the one who opens the door again.