“S.”
I turn to look at him. He kisses my forehead. “Me too,” I agree. “I’m proud of you though.”
“You are?” he asks.
“Yes! Teaching in Greece? When else are you going to take this opportunity? I’m so proud of you. If anyone isn’t, they suck and need to go therapy,” I add with a laugh. He does too, his eyes drifting all over my face like he’s taking a picture in his mind that he’ll carry all the way across the ocean to Greece. “Two years isn’t that long, right?” I ask, needing the confirmation.
He hesitates, the truth of the circumstances in his eyes.
“Itisthat long, isn’t it?” I ask, and he kisses my forehead, clearly at a loss for words. “I know we’re already breaking rules, but would you consider long distance?”
“No,” he answers so quickly it surprises me.
“Why?”
“All in or all out, right?” he reminds me of our conversation when we first met. “And with long distance, it’s easier to step out, and I won’t risk it again.”
I realize this is the first time he seems a little jaded about the idea of us and love. It surprises me, but then a thought strikes me—a thought that will probably make it all make sense: “Tell me more about Audrey.”
His expression settles into something ambiguous. He waits a moment before answering, then finally, with his gaze on the ceiling he says, “I think I mentioned before that Audrey and I dated long distance from high school through college. She never wanted to move here, and I never wanted to move back to Rhode Island. I thought I was going to marry her—I wanted to. But it kind of fell apart...” His tongue glides along the inside of hischeek, considering. “We were always in two different places—figuratively and physically.”
I make a noise of understanding, ignoring the twist of jealousy in my gut. I can tell he was in love with her and I can also see she broke his heart.
“That’s a long time to be with someone,” I say.
He nods, but the tip of his chin would indicate it was rather exhausting. “She’s just someone who meant a lot to me once upon a time for many years, and until someone replaces that, she’s going to remain a topic of conversation for my family.”
“And that’s why you don’t want to try long distance.”
“Exactly.”
I nod even though my heart feels slightly impaled, and I add, “You don’t have to replace people you loved once.”
He stares at me a beat before nodding. “Right.”
“I mean it. We love in sequences and we love in layers. Each person we get to love changes us for the better if we choose to take each relationship as a lesson,” I add.
He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you psycho-analyzing me?”
“Yep,” I grin. “You’re an easy target.”
“Are you a mind reader?”
“A behavior analyst,” I reason, and he scoffs. “That is not funny.”
“No, it’s not. It’s fascinating,” he says. “You are... fascinating.”
I smile at him then curl against his side. “I’m going to like you forever.”
He cups a hand around my chin. “Same.”
The words are not enough. But they’re all we need right now.
AIRPORT GOODBYES AREthe worst. I’ve always been aware of that. But taking him to the airport and hugging him goodbyefor that last time, knowing I won’t see him for months, years, or never again, settles like cement drying in my gut.
We rock side to side, holding onto each other as tightly as we can.
“I hate this feeling,” I say, and he responds, “Don’t have too much fun while I’m in Greece.”
