The Locket
The Locket
How many days have I waited? And now, I realize not one of them was in vain. Not a single tear wasted. In just a few hours, she’ll be in my arms again — and I have no doubt this will be the best chapter of our lives. Her room is almost ready, just as she remembers it: open and airy, quietly inviting, with the soft hum of traffic and voices rising from the street below. I smooth the sheets one more time, then pause at her desk, her sacred little space, to adjust the flowers. A tender arrangement of yellow and cream roses, soft pink peonies, delicate ranunculus, and tiny waxflowers. I’ve framed one of her favorite quotes and selected a few pens from the stationery store. And now, the afternoon light filters through the window, casting a dreamlike glow over the room.
