“Morning,” I murmured, sleepy and still glowing with happiness over the previous night. “I have to go,” he said. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a morning person. I could work with that. I sat up and peered out the window, checking to see if my mom’s car was home. It wasn’t. “It’s okay,” I assured him. “It looks like my mom’s already gone for work. So come here and kiss me good morning.” “I have to get to the airport,” Chris replied tersely, feeling around until he located his pants on my bedroom floor. I leapt out of bed as though the mattress was on fire. “Oh God, what time is it?!” “I’ve still got a couple hours but I should get home and finish packing,” he explained. “Can you call me a cab, please?” “Sure,” I replied, reaching for my cell phone. As I waited for the cab company to pick up, I thought to myself that today might be the day: the beginning of the end. But then I remembered Chris’s tenderness the previous night and, despite my tendency to focus on the negative, managed to push the awful thought aside.
