Evan: This is it.

Evan Brough

This is it.

This is the moment I've been preparing for for the past few months.

I've written many words before now, none of them capturing how I truly feel. No words will ever be able to say how I feel about Ada. I've tried many times now to get it right. There are screwed up pieces of paper lying all over the floor, some have made it into the bin, but more are lying on the floor around it.

I'm nervous now, but as I read my final letter, I know it's right. Breathing deeply, I seal it in an envelope.

I close my eyes for a moment and settle my nervous stomach. I breathe deeply and then open my eyes again. This time, I know I'm ready for what is to come. I know I can handle it.

I grab my coat and head for Ada's house. I promised her I would go to the airport with her, give her a proper goodbye.


I walk up Ada's path. I haven't been this nervous since...well, ever.

I look down at myself and curse for not dressing better than in just jeans and a t-shirt. Forgetting about that for a moment, I look up at the door. Slowly, as though in a trance, I reach up and knock on the door.

After a minute or so, the door swings open. It's Ada's mother. "Hello Evan. She's just checking her stuff upstairs in her room. Go right ahead." she says with a smile.

Nodding gratefully, I head towards her room. I climb the stairs in front of me, the anticipation killing me inside. As much as it pains me, I don't want her to leave, yet I know she must. I won't stop her now. I'll hide what I truly feel, just like I have been doing since I knew she was going back, until she is on the plane and she reads the note.

I doubt we'll stay in contact. Although I love her, really, I do, I wouldn't want to drag her down and be a constant reminder of the person who she regrets being with for three months while she sorted her life out.

I get to her room and tap lightly on her door.

"Mom?" I hear her call out.

"No," I whisper back. "It's me. C'mon. Let's get in the taxi. You'll miss your flight otherwise."

I pick up her suitcases and take them downstairs and to the cab, but not before noticing how bare her room is now. There's nothing on the shelves, the draws and wardrobe are all open and empty and everything she owns is crammed into two suitcases.

Everything except me.

I sigh quietly as I get in the cab next to her. I smile. The cab driver glances back and drawls, "Where to?"

"The airport." I say, not looking away from Ada as we drive off.

The End

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