"You look beautiful either way."
"Smooth talker."
We left the restaurant hand in hand, ignoring the flashes from the cameras, and drove home in comfortable silence. When we got back to the house, Anna turned to me in the doorway.
"Thank you," she said. "For tonight. For understanding."
"Always." I kissed her softly. "Get some sleep. You've got writing to do tomorrow."
"And you've got a plane to catch."
"Exactly. We're both busy, important people." I grinned.
She shoved me playfully, and I caught her hand, pulling her in for one more kiss.
When she finally went upstairs, I stood in the hallway for a long moment, the silence of the house pressing in around me.
The morning came too soon. As Hal loaded my bags into the car, Anna stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself against the early chill. I walked over to her slowly, neither of us quite ready for this moment.
"Call me when you land?" she said, her voice small.
"The second the plane touches down." I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The car idled in the driveway behind us, waiting. I kissed her one more time, trying to memorize everything about this moment. Then I forced myself to let go and climbed into the backseat.
The car started to pull away, and I turned to watch her through the back window, standing there in her pajamas, getting smaller?—
"Stop! Stop the car!"
Anna's voice cut through the air. Hal hit the brakes before we'd even reached the end of the driveway, and I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat.
She was running toward the car, clutching a paper bag. Hope surged through me like electricity.She changed her mind. She's coming with me. She's?—
I threw open the door before she even reached us. "Anna?"
She skidded to a stop, breathless, holding out the paper bag. "I made you a sandwich for the plane."
My heart, which had been soaring, settled into something softer. "You made me a sandwich?"
"Yes. And before you ask—" She was trying to catch her breath, a smile breaking through even as tears filled her eyes. "The turkey is on TOP of the cheese, just like you like it. You weirdo."
I started laughing, even as my own eyes burned. I took the bag from her and pulled her into my arms. "You made me a sandwich?"
"It's a long flight," she said against my chest. "And airplane food is terrible. And I just—" Her voice cracked. "I needed to do something. To take care of you one more time before you leave."
I held her tighter, this ridiculous, wonderful woman who'd sprinted barefoot down the driveway to make sure I had lunch. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." She pulled back to look at me, tears streaming down her face, but smiling. "Don't let it get squished."
"I'll guard it with my life."
"And text me when you eat it so I know you didn't throw it away."
"I would never throw away a sandwich you made."
She laughed, then started crying harder. I cupped her face in my hands, wiping away her tears with my thumbs.
