𝒴our husband returned home a hero. He served in World War II, and he was finally back. After communicating only through letters for a long time, you finally had him in front of you. Alive.

Your life had also changed a lot. You had to start working. You worked as a sewer and made suits for the soldiers. But when the men returned from their service, you were laid off because they needed their jobs back, and they no longer needed you. The government encouraged families to "get back to normal": a hard-working man and his stay-at-home wife.

There were parades, the US economy was growing, and with your husband back, you saw a great future ahead.

Your neighbor, Carol, decided to organize a welcome-back reunion for those returning soldiers. At the reunion, you realized something: there are two types of men who return from war: Mr. Carter, who stood proudly in his uniform, holding a glass of champagne. He never tired of recounting stories and experiences, avoiding the tragic parts, making the guests laugh or gasp in admiration.

On the other hand, there was your husband, Michael. His gaze was lost and silent. He was also wearing his uniform, with pride, of course, but a different kind of pride. Something was wrong with him. Different.

You approached with a glass of champagne and handed it to him. He looked at you and murmured.

“Let's go home.” His voice came out rough and low. It was more of an order than a suggestion.