By Dawne Zirley-Lyght
She missed her connecting flight on purpose – a last-minute choice to put off having to see his worried face at the airport.
She knew he’d be beside himself wondering where she was, and that the air between them would be thick with resentment: him for having to worry about her; her for having to worry about him worrying about her.
Anyway, she knew it was over, and as the plane began its descent, she pondered opening lines.
They met with a weak hug at Baggage Carousel Four. She was surprised when he spoke first: “Honey, we need to talk …”