Miya moved the vase of flowers for the fourth time and sighed. It was supposed to be perfect, perfect for his return, perfect for his homecoming. She shook her head and moved them again, this time to the side of the table against the wall. She knew well enough that flowers were just flowers and what was important was that he was going to be home at last. But staring at the clock wasn't making it move any faster and she needed to keep busy to she had cleaned the kitchen, finished the laundry, started bread dough and read her email, twice.
She was excited, practically giddy. She hadn't seen him in two years and in that time he'd barely sent a handful of letters. She knew it was hard over there, mail was sporadic at best and internet access wasn't allowed, it had been hard, she'd missed him every day, her long lost other half, but soon he'd be home.
She turned, hearing a car coming up the driveway. She glanced at the clock again and squealed happily, running to get the door, tossing her apron aside as she did. She couldn't wait to see him. She just knew he'd have so much to tell her, so many stories, so much time away, two full years of life to fill her in on. Her best friend was finally home.