She went to him, slowly at first, running the last few steps; then her arms were around his neck, her cheek hard against the rough fabric of his topcoat; his hands were firm on her shoulders.
“Where’ve you been, honey?” he asked.
It was hard to tell him. “I’ve been away for a little while, but now I’m home.”
He held her face cupped in his steady hands, and with the air of a man performing a ritual, he kissed her wet eyes. First one, and then the other.
