The evening guest – A Short Story

As evening crept closer, she checked the time again. The food was ready. The house was set to welcome him, glowing warm and welcoming. She had smoothed out her throw blankets, arranged pillows just so, making the perfect nest. The wine was breathing on the counter. Every detail was perfect.

Her heart thrummed in her chest.

The doorbell rang.

Her breath caught, time suddenly slowing to an agonizing crawl.

She smoothed her hair in the mirror, cheeks flushed with excitement. Another quick glance in the mirror to steady herself.

Emma walked to the door slowly, deliberately, with measured steps. She refused to run, though her heart was racing. She was unwilling to rush and betray her impatience.

Each movement felt drawn out, each second laden with possibility.

The world seemed to hold its breath as she reached for the knob.

Her hand trembled over the doorknob.

She held her breath.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

A man with a smile on his face, arms extended.

“Evening, ma’am. Special delivery for you.”

Her breath caught. She accepted the package, signed, and closed the door gently behind her.

In her hands, the brown parcel felt heavier than usual, not a mere book but a promise wrapped tightly inside. She cradled it close, like something precious, almost alive and carried it to her reading chair. In her chair, with the wine glass beside her, she opened it carefully, reverently.

There he was at last. On the cover, tweed jacket immaculate, Mickey Mouse watch peeking out. The Secret of Secrets, Robert Langdon’s sixth adventure, by Dan Brown.

Her smile broke wide. A laugh bubbled up, half joy, half relief.

Eight years had passed, but her Robert was back.

The familiar scent of paper greeted her as she carefully opened the book to the first page.

Sitting back into her chair, she pulled the soft throw over her legs, took the wine glass next to her, and the world outside, the hum of the city, the ticking clock, faded away.

Prague awaited, mysterious and alive.

And Robert, ever the guide, was here once again to lead her on the journey.

As the clock ticked and she vanished into the pages, into Prague, the glow of the candle caught the curve of her smile.

The adventure had begun again.