I know he is right, but that doesn’t mean hearing him say it isn’t destroying my heart and soul.
Philip swallows.
“I think I need to let this be what it was.”
The sentence hits like a slammed door.
I nod once.
Not because I agree.
Because there is nothing useful I can say that won’t sound like asking.
And asking a man to build a half-life across an ocean is not fair.
“Okay,” I say.
The word tastes wrong.
Philip steps forward.
So do I.
My hands settle at his waist.
His come to my shoulders.
The kiss is slow.
No urgency.
No pretending this can be solved with enough heat.
Just mouths learning each other one last time because it seems we enjoy making things difficult.
I linger when it ends.
Forehead against his.
He’s breathing me in.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
I tighten my hands once against him.
Then let go before I forget how.
A taxi pulls up outside.
Perfect timing.
I hate it on sight.
Philip exhales shakily, picks up his suitcase, then hesitates.
Looks past me towards the kitchen.
“Look after him.”
