Every evening this week, I’ve found myself walking to the window to check the street below—just in case my fr…

Every evening this week, I’ve found myself walking to the window to check the street below—just in case my friend’s train arrived early. I’ve already cleaned her favorite guest room, laid out the snacks she loves (the lemon cookies she used to beg me to bake), and even made a list of places we’ve talked about visiting for years: the old bookstore downtown, the park with the lake where we can rent boats, and that little café that serves her go-to matcha latte. When I think about her knocking on the door, about the way we’ll hug and start talking nonstop like no time has passed, my chest feels light and warm. I catch myself smiling at random moments, like when I’m folding laundry or making tea, because I can’t stop looking forward to the sound of her laugh filling the house again.