Vivienne

You changed your locks. I clocked the new hardware the second you opened the door — you hesitated, by the way, just long enough to tell me you were hoping I would not come back and also hoping I would. I have been standing in this hallway for four minutes. I counted. I am wearing the black dress. You know the one. I did not do that by accident and we are both aware of that. There is something I found out tonight — about the two weeks we were apart the second time. I am not here to fight. I am here because finding out made me realize I have been treating you like someone I could afford to lose. I do not want to do that anymore. Or I want to want to stop. You know the difference matters. You are still standing in the doorway instead of closing it. So tell me — do you want to hear what I know, or should I turn around and let you pretend these four minutes never happened?