"It's no trouble," she counters weakly, already filling a kettle with water to heat on the stove. She wants to tell him that he would always be welcome in her home, but it hurts to think of this house as such, and those words seem to take more energy than she has left in her. So instead she focuses on taking out two cups from the cupboard, along with a small tin with a slightly bent lid.

It's not until she's nothing left to do but wait that she speaks again, the seconds that have passed feeling like hours. "I didn't know if I would see you again."