It was somewhere between falling into the bed in that so-familiar embrace and me talking French to him afterwords, as cute as ever.
'You are making a mistake.'
He did not answer. I knew he needed to go - as far as possible, as alone as he was able, as free as only we are when we close the eyelids and imagine. I did not have an idea if the mistake hint would stay in his mind, if it made him unsure, if it made him think.
...
More than a year after those good-bye moments, in the same embrace, he tells me
'I missed you every day. I missed you more than anyone else.'
So now you know. It was not too late
