I am sitting here tonight, and the house is so quiet I can hear my own heart beating. I keep checking my phone, even though I know nobody is going to call. I keep waiting for the door to open, just like she did.

The front door is unlocked. I didn’t even bother to turn the deadbolt when I came back inside. It doesn’t seem to matter anymore. Nothing seems to matter except the fact that I let it happen.

I think I hear a car in the driveway, but when I look out the window, the street is empty. It’s just the wind in the trees. It’s just the shadow of the porch light on the grass.

I am waiting for the call that tells me she is safe. I am waiting for the call that tells me she is never going back there. But mostly, I am waiting for the silence to stop.

The phone is still sitting on the kitchen counter. I haven’t moved it. I haven’t turned it off. I just stare at it, waiting for the screen to light up with a name I recognize.

Maybe it will be the police. Maybe it will be the lawyer. Maybe it will be Stan, calling to tell me it was all a mistake, that he never knew, that he was just at the store.

I hope it’s not him. I don’t think I could ever hear his voice again.

I don’t think I could ever listen to him explain away another five minutes of her life.

I am going to leave the light on in the hallway tonight. I am going to leave all the doors open. I don’t want there to be any dark places left in this house. I don’t want there to be any secrets, either.

Everything feels fragile now. Like if I breathe too hard, the whole world will just shatter into little pieces. I wonder if it was always this way, or if I just never noticed the cracks until now.

I suppose it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is the hearing. And the truth. And the fact that I will never, ever let her go back there again.

I am going to get up now and finish the laundry. I am going to fold every single sock and put them in the drawer. I am going to make sure everything is clean and ready, just in case she comes home.

I just hope she knows I’m waiting. I hope she knows I’m not going anywhere. I hope she knows that no matter what happens on Thursday, the closet door is going to stay open for the rest of her life.