She thought it was he she heard coming up the stairs. The thump thump sounded like his heavy boots on the wooden steps. She thought he had gone off to his work, had left her to her day and the things she wanted to do. She listened; her head poised, her eyes watching the door, her ears listening for each particle of sound like a cat. She wondered why he had returned. Was he suspicious? she mused, biting her lip, clutching her fingers. She waited. The footsteps stopped outside her door. She stared at the door handle. Her whole attention was now on the handle. It turned and in he came, his broad head and dark eyes took her attention away from the door handle. She wanted to confess to him; wanted to say it had been one of those things she had wanted to do for years ever since they’d been married and he had treated her so badly, but she said nothing, just stared. He smiled his smile, went through the top drawer of the chest-of-drawers, and took out an envelope. He held it in the air waving it madly. She held her breath. He broke into laughter and said he’d almost forgotten the letter his employer had given him to post the previous day and that it was important and he had had to run back and here he was sweating like a pig and all for a damned letter. She sighed with relief. Her stomach churned. He shook his head, turned, and walked to the door. He paused and looked back at her and blew her a kiss from his huge palm. She lifted her hand, grabbed the invisible kiss, and placed on her lips. He smiled and went out the door. She heard his thump thump down the stairs. Silence. She looked at herself in the mirror. She sighed. She’d not leave after all. Not today. Not now. Maybe some other day. Some other time. Maybe.