The mug was warm but my fingers started to go numb a little from holding it so tight. I loosened my grip and set it down. The clock in the kitchen ticked just like the one in that waiting room had.

I wondered if she was sitting in her own kitchen somewhere doing the same thing, thinking about the lady who touched her sleeve for no reason.

To be honest I almost got up and followed her down that hall. My legs even tensed up like they were ready to move. But then the nurse called my name and the moment was gone. I told myself it was better that way. She had her own life now, her own heart to worry about.

The stone feels heavier tonight though. I keep turning it over in my mind, that loose thread on her sleeve, the way she hummed low and crooked just like before. Maybe the right thing was to leave it be. Or maybe I just got scared again, same as when I was twenty five and couldn’t ask for her name.

I don’t know. The tea is still sitting here. The loose thread is what I see when I close my eyes now. I never did say the words.