It’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever received.
He pulls back, but only far enough to rest his forehead against mine.
“You need to take care of yourself, Archie,” he says.
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve got the Destroyer. I know how to take great care of myself.”
He closes his eyes as if in pain.
He stays there for a moment. Forehead against mine. Breathing. Not moving.
Then he steps back, and the distance between us fills with all the things neither of us has said.
I manage to hold it together while he’s packing.
I even help him carry his bags to the Uber, which I can do now because I have a functioning foot and a walking boot that makes me look like an off-duty stormtrooper.
“You’ve got your passport?”
“Yes.”
“Charger?”
“Yes.”
“The tie with the tiny pattern that looks like little swords but is actually little fish?”
“It’s actually little—” He stops. “How did you know that?”
“I know everything about you, Leo. It’s unsettling. You should probably leave before I start reciting your credit card number.”
He almost smiles. Almost.
The Uber pulls up. Leo puts his bags in the trunk and turns to me.
“Archie—”
“Don’t.” I hold up a hand. “If you say something nice, I’ll cry, and I don’t cry in front of Uber drivers. It’s a rule.”
He looks at me for a long moment. Then he nods once and gets in the car.
The door closes and the Uber pulls away.
I stand on the pavement, in my walking boot, watching the car disappear around the corner. A pigeon waddles past with the smug confidence of something that has never had to say goodbye to anyone.
I go back inside.
The apartment has never been this quiet before.
Leo’s toothbrush is gone from the bathroom. His suits are gone from the closet. The left side of the sink is empty.
The only trace of him is a faint smell of his aftershave on the pillow.
And a note.
It’s tucked into my sock drawer, because of course it is.
I unfold it with hands that are definitely not shaking.
