Her mouth drops open when she sees how I’ve decorated the foyer. Right as you walk in there are large, framed pictures of us through the years on either side. The first one was when I’d finally gotten my head out of my arse and officially made friends with her after the war. In it we’re standing at the big post war celebration, my eyes on her like she’s the only person in the world, while her cheeks are pink from blushing shyly up at me.