Thomas's answer was simple.
"Because loving someone who died doesn't stop you from being lonely."
Isaiah looked at him.
Thomas nodded toward the door.
"I'll leave you alone."
Before opening it, he stopped.
"For whatever it's worth, I wish you'd come home four years ago."
Isaiah looked down.
"So do I."
Thomas left.
Isaiah spent that afternoon at his mother's house.
Evelyn Brooks had aged more than anyone.
When she opened the door and saw him for the first time after rescue, she had collapsed against him.
Unlike Lena, Evelyn had never remarried a life around his absence.
But she had changed too.
Her hair was almost completely gray.
She walked with a cane after hip surgery.
Isaiah had missed all of it.
Now they sat at her dining table.
She poured him tea.
"You met Thomas."
Isaiah frowned.
"You knew he was coming?"
"No."
She smiled faintly.
"But I know that look."
Isaiah leaned back.
"Do you like him?"
Evelyn considered.
"Yes."
Isaiah looked offended.
His mother laughed softly.
"You asked."
"He married my wife."
"He married a widow."
Isaiah looked away.
Evelyn reached across the table.
"Baby."
He hated when she called him that.
Especially because he needed it.
"They buried me."
Her eyes filled.
"We thought we did."
"No body."
"I know."
"You believed it."
Evelyn withdrew her hand.
"For three years, I woke up every morning hoping the Army had made a mistake."
"They did."
"I know."
"Then why did everybody move on?"
Evelyn stared at him.
"Because the dead don't get to demand that the living stop."
Isaiah's face hardened.
She continued before he could answer.
"But you're not dead."
"No."
"And that's the problem."
Isaiah blinked.
Evelyn sighed.
"If you had died, Lena's new life wouldn't be betrayal."
"If I had stayed dead."
"Don't say that."
"It's true."
"No."
She leaned forward.
"You coming home is a miracle."
"It doesn't feel like one."
"Miracles can hurt."
Isaiah gave a humorless laugh.
"That's not in the Bible."
"Neither is half the nonsense people put on pillows."
He almost smiled.