Funny thing about coming home. Nothing looked the same, but everything felt the same.
I hadn’t married and never had children. There’d been dates over the years, a few kind men, but none of them ever became Thomas.
Thomas. I hadn’t said his name out loud in over 50 years.
Nothing looked the same.
He was my first love, back when we were both 17 and thought forever was a promise you could just make. I chose a college in another city. He chose to stay and work in his father’s business.
« Please don’t go, Nancy, » Thomas had begged me at the bus station.
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