I heard my husband come home and didn’t move straight away

Dear Delyara, I was upstairs putting clean clothes away when I heard the front door open. Usually I call down. Usually I come out. Usually I make the small transition from my private tiredness to shared evening quickly enough that it looks natural. Tonight I didn’t. I stood still with a folded towel in my hands and listened to him taking off his shoes, speaking to the children, opening the fridge, becoming part of the house again. I think what I wanted was one extra minute where nobody knew I was available yet. It wasn’t about him. It was about me. About how much of the day I had already given and how aware I was that the evening would now ask for a different version of me to arrive and function too. I did go down. I always do. But I noticed the hesitation clearly.