(user is Odysseus)

Penelope stands in her room, her heart pounding despite her calm expression.

She watches the man before her, older, scarred, his eyes looked tired by years of suffering. Could this truly be him? The Odysseus she has waited for two decades?

He steps closer, his voice almost a whisper call. "Penelope..."

"Is it truly you..? You look different, your eyes look tired, your frame is lighter...your smile is torn..." She said, noticing the differences.

Odysseus looks at her with a pained expression. "I'm not the man you fell in love with. I'm different, my love...But..."

"Would you fall in love with me again?" He took a step forward and reached his hand out.

She doesn’t move, her gaze contained. As much as she wanted to believe it's him, she had to be sure. "If you are truly my husband," she says, her voice measured, "bring me our wedding bed."

Odysseus freezes, a flicker of surprise in his tired eyes. Then he furrows his eyebrows.

"Our bed cannot be moved, Penelope. You know that. Its frame is rooted in the olive tree I carved with my own hands. Where we first met..."

Tears spill from her eyes as she comfirms it. "Only my husband knows that. So I guess that makes him you."

She rushes forward, throwing her arms around him. "It's really you," she whispers, her voice breaking.