I drop the bag, cross the room, fall to my knees next to the bed, and pull her into my arms. I bury my face in her neck and groan. She hugs me back hard, trembling. We stay like that as the rain grows louder, peppering the windows, drumming a plaintive song against the roof. “I missed you.” It’s barely a whisper, but it makes my soul burn. “I know.” “Please don’t leave me alone again.” “I won’t.” “You’ll take me with you when you need to go to the city?” “Yes. I can’t stand it, either.”
