Now Boarding

“It’s not forever,” she implores. “It’s six months. Shorter, if I don’t like it there.”

He can’t meet her eyes.

“C’mon.”

“Nothing lasts forever.”

“Well—okay, no, but this isn’t even gonna last a year.”

“And if you do?”

“If I do what?”

“Like it there. How long will it be then?”

“I—I can’t say. Nine months.”

“Your mom won’t survive it.”

“I know, and I don’t know if I’ll survive it either. I’m going to miss her so much.”

“Your dad, either.”

“I know.”

“And Frodo, too. Don’t forget him.”

“I think Frodo will forget me faster than I could forget him,” she laughs. “I promise I won’t forget you.”

“I couldn’t.”

“What?”

“Forget you.”

She smiles.

“I don’t care if it’s London, or Moscow, or Tokyo—I could never forget you.”

The corner of her smile twitches.

“I don’t care if it’s six months, or a year, or a lifetime. I will never be able to forget you.”

“A lifetime? You’re being dramatic.”

“Don’t lie to me. Please.”

“God, I swear. It’s six months.”

“A lifetime can happen in six months. Or six months can turn into a lifetime.”

“What are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that whoever you will be when you come back—if you come back—will not be the you that I have in front of me right now.”

“You’re being insane.”

“And I won’t be the same me. So I’m going to say this, and it’s gonna be the truth—for now, at least.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“I love you.”

The P.A. system dings. Deafening microphone interference interrupts her. “Gate twenty-five, group four. Now boarding.”

“What did you say?” He searches her eyes.

Her smile grows. She gives him a wave.

Anchored in place, he watches as she leaves. His eyes follow the slight swish of her hair, left, then right, as she takes each step. Farther, then farther away.