The dots appear.
Disappear.
Appear again.
Three small gray dots blinking on my screen like he’s standing at the edge of a sentence and keeps stepping back from it.
I stare so hard my eyes start to sting.
Say something, Ethan.
Anything.
Tell me not to come. Tell me to come. Tell me this is stupid. Tell me you’re busy. Tell me you’ve moved on.
Just don’t leave me suspended between airports and regret.
The dots vanish.
Nothing comes.
No message.
No call.
Just silence.
My chest tightens. For a second, I almost type again. Something casual. Something that lets him off the hook.
Never mind. Ignore me.
But my thumb stops.
Because I didn’t type that message by mistake.
I meant it.
Final boarding call echoes through the terminal. People stand around me, dragging suitcases, laughi
