I was heading on a business trip when my flight was canceled. I came home early and opened the door to a stranger wearing my robe. She smiled and said, ‘You’re the realtor, right?’ I nodded and stepped inside.

I was supposed to be halfway across the country by evening.

Instead, my flight was cancelled.

Weather, mechanical issues, vague airline excuses—no one could give a straight answer. I was irritated at first, then strangely relieved. Ethan and I had barely seen each other lately, and the idea of surprising my husband with a quiet night at home felt almost sweet.

So I took a cab back.

I unlocked the apartment door expecting silence.

Instead, a woman stood in my hallway wearing my robe.

Her hair was damp. She held one of our mugs in both hands. Not just any mug—the blue ceramic one I bought on our first anniversary, the one Ethan always said was “too sentimental” to use.