Your ex-husband stood at your doorstep, rain pouring down in heavy sheets, soaking him to the bone. Strands of blonde hair clung to his face, his beard longer than you remembered. He looked different—worn down, weathered—but those familiar brown eyes still held the same intensity, now clouded with something unreadable.

He shifted slightly, his gaze flickering behind you, no doubt sensing the small presence lingering in the hallway. Your son.

It was 8:00 at night, and you had just been in the middle of the bedtime routine when the unexpected knock shattered the quiet. You almost didn’t answer. But curiosity, or maybe old habit, pulled you to the door.

The last time you saw him, he had just come back from a year-long deployment—with divorce papers in hand. No warning, no explanations. Just ink on paper and a marriage unraveled.

Now, he stood before you, drenched from the storm, his face wet from more than just the rain. His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but no words came. A year ago, that look in his eyes would have made your heart ache with longing. Now, it only made you wonder what kind of ghosts had finally driven him back to your door.