“It’s weird,” she told me, “how I believed in the fact that you would come back after so long and you actually did.” I stared into her smiling eyes. What a mesmerizing sight. “Were you always waiting?” “Somehow yes,” she answered, “a part of me was always waiting for you to come back home.” Home, I thought. That’s the word for it. It feels like home with her. “I’m sorry I took so long.” I said, finally. She smiled and gently shook her head, “It’s okay. Welcome back home.”