[she steels herself for that sound, and even when it happens she can't relax. Still she blossoms a hand from the wall to open the door. She's sitting in the living room on a chair, a drink set up for him on the coffee table firmly toward the couch to put some distance between him. It's one he likes, she remembers that much and almost resents the memory. For herself she sips black coffee and regards him with raised eyebrows]
[Action]
Glad you could make it. Come in.