We shared an underdressed kiss standing on the pavement in front of the airport. Bones rattled from February chill; breath turned misty like my eyes.
“Good luck,” I whispered into Justin’s shoulder as I untangled my arms from his back. “Maybe this will be the one.”
“Thanks.” He half smiled. “See you tomorrow.”
Justin boarded a New York-bound plane wearing his only suit pressed into neat lines.
I returned to our Detroit home with cold feet.