It had been much too long since Orestes had last seen Hermione. It had been before he had departed Mycenae for Acadia centuries earlier. In all that time he had never once forgotten her face. He could never forget those most important to him, least of all his wife. He had gone through his own personal hell and back for her, much of it while under the Furies' curse. It wasn't something he ever wanted to endure again, but if it ever came to that Orestes would carry that burden again if he had to. His only regret in life was when he had threatened Hermione's life, because in his right mind he would never harm a hair on her head. That devotion remained all those years they had remained apart. He only hoped it would show through once they saw each other again. It might not be as easy for them to fall into each others arms the way he and Pylades so easily picked up their friendship.
His apartment was a mess, having been in his own process of unpacking and decorating. It wasn't exactly his forte, but Orestes could manage on his own. He had the very basic necessities of life and so far he hadn't hung any decorations. He didn't have much in the way of sentimental belongings. He didn't possess anything from the old days, and what he had now wasn't truly important to him. It could all easily be replaced.
He hadn't known when to expect Hermione, so every day that he returned from work he cleaned whatever mess had been left from breakfast. That day he had finished cleaning up a small pile of dishes and then went about unpacking one box. He set the box on the floor and pulled a pile of books from the box, setting them one by one on a bookshelf next to the window. He thought momentarily how he should cut back on his belongings. He had acquired more and more over the years, but in reality none of it really mattered. He could just up and leave with his wallet and a suitcase and he would be fine. Now he had reason to stay. He only hoped Hermione would decide to live with him again sooner than later. Assuming she decided to stay with him.
When he heard the knock at the door he halted putting the books away and stood up. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, his hand resting gently on the doorknob. He closed his eyes for a second as he felt that same sense of familiarity he had felt on his first day in the city. Only this was different. It was so similar to Pylades he might have mistaken it for his dear cousin. He opened his eyes again and now opened the door, facing the woman he had longed to see all those years. "Hermione, come in" he said with a little smile and stepped a little to the side to let her in. Inside he was overjoyed, but there was so much history there that he didn't know whether she would choose him again. He would always choose her, but there was only so much Greek drama one could live with.