Second year.
Ethan called.
"I'm transferring abroad."
The word abroad felt like distance incarnate.
"When?"
"Next month."
She wanted to say:
Don't go.
She said:
"That's good. Congratulations."
He waited.
Maybe for her to ask him to stay.
She didn't.
Airport day.
She didn't show up.
Instead she texted:
"I hope you find what you're looking for."
He stared at the message before boarding.
Then replied:
"I already did once."
And turned his phone off.