I opened the front door, squinting into the afternoon sunlight that hit me right in the eyes. I barely registered the silhouette of a man in front of me before he was leaning forward, pulling me tight to his chest.
   “Zi!” He said, his voice achingly familiar and thick with emotion. His arms squeezed me so tightly it hurt, but I was glad for them, feeling my legs give out with shock.
   “Liang?” I whispered, hands clutching at the material of his shirt and trying to decide if he was real or not.
   “Zi.” Liang repeated and I knew I wasn’t imagining him, tipping my face up to look at him. He still smelled like cinnamon gum and his hair was still soft and black, tousled and travel-worn. 
   “How are you here?” I asked, forcing myself to take a step back from his embrace and lean into the door instead of his broad chest.
   “It’s been so long. Zi, baby, I missed you.” Liang’s voice was soft, old pain and confusion marring his usually bright eyes. 
   “Liang, I have to tell you something.” I said, my thumb tracing absentmindedly over my wedding ring.
   “It’s been so long. You never called. I called.” Liang said, beautiful brown eyes softening. Guilt and old pain surfaced again in my heart and I closed my eyes, trying to focus on what I needed to say.
   “I know.” I said, remembering the afternoons I would sit and stare at my ringing phone, trying to put the pieces of my heart back together. 
   “I heard you moved to America.” Liang said, clearing his throat with obvious effort and forcing a smile. “I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I would see if you wanted a cup of coffee.” 
   “I—come inside. I’ll make some.” I said, stepping back to let him pass. He set his backpack down carefully ne