And stand in the way they did.

When we arrived in Europa, I skulked through the port, avoiding eye

contact whenever I could. It really did seem like we would get

away with it, but I couldn't shake the vague sense of shame and

self-loathing that was building up inside me.

I saw you at the baggage claim. You seemed to be sobbing. Some

passer-by had his arm around you and was offering you a tissue. He

looked like the handsome type. I only just remembered that now.

Funny, huh? At the time, I didn't feel or notice much of anything.

I thought that, for a moment, you saw me there. Did you?

Well, there's no point in asking you that now. You can't know.

I hurried off as quickly as I could. Part of that was cold

rationality, the kind that you taught me. I knew it wouldn't be

smart for us to be seen together. But the other part was that

shame feeling I mentioned. Would you still look at me in the same

way after what I did? Could you?

I would never find out. That was the last time I saw you.