The plane landed while it was still dark outside.
I canceled the number I had used for eight years and deactivated the family account linked to him before takeoff.
The new number was only shared with the expatriate manager and my parents.
I stood at the airport exit for a long time, my fingers unconsciously reaching into my pocket, wanting to let Julian know I was okay.
That was a habit built over eight years.
Every time I landed, he would ask me, "Have you arrived?"
I used to think those three words were so ordinary that they weren't worth remembering.
Now I realized that every time I thought of him, I had to swallow back what I originally intended to do.
The driver sent by the branch office was holding a sign with my name, waiting for me at the exit.
I dragged my suitcase over,
