Prologue

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I look at my reflection in the mirror and adjust with my finger the slightly smeared eyeliner under my eye, then run my hands through my hair to try and comb it the best I can. I take another good look and I decide that yes, this will do, nobody will understand that I have just been fucked against the bathroom door.

"I'm getting used to these quickies in the airport restroom before one of us leaves," I declare out loud, confident that no one else is in there with us.

Lilian smirks at me through the mirror, her signature 'cat who has just eaten the canary' smirk that I've come to love and that will someday name our blonde beer, once we finally open the microbrewery we've been dreaming to open for the past five years. That is what's going to let people in on our quickie.

"There's nothing I love more than getting on a plane tasting you on my fingers, babe."

I grin, grabbing her t-shirt to pull her against me for one more kiss.

"Come on, I want to have one last cigarette before my flight. There's no smoking area in Madrid, so god knows when I'll be able to put some nicotine in my body again," Lilian complains while giving me her hand to take to walk out of the restrooms.

As we walk out I check the flight status on the screen: perfectly on time, which means Lilian has just the time for one cigarette before she has to go through the security check and fly away from me. Again.

Two years and it hasn't gotten any easier. But somehow it's different this time: this time our intercontinental long-distance relationship finally has an expiration date.

"So it's set?" she asks me while lighting her cigarette. "You're flying back to LA in August and then I'll move here in October."

My heart leaps in my chest as she mentions moving here. There have been times in the past two years when I thought this moment would never come, yet here we are, making real plans for a real future, together, in Spain. I am so happy I could just start dancing and singing there, right outside the terminal of the airport.

"I'm gonna miss you, though," I murmur, because apparently I can't just take the win and be happy for more than five seconds when my girlfriend is about to fly back to the other side of the world. Again.

"I'll miss you, too, Short Stuff," she says, using her favorite nickname for me. For too long I tried in vain to remind her that I am not that short - about five-feet-five - but she didn't have it. Every time I protested she looked down on me from her five-feet-nine and laugh, so the nickname stuck and I have grown to love it, just like everything else that has to do with this woman. After seven and a half years together, she still makes my heart beat faster than anyone has ever done. "But hey, August is basically only three months away."

"And then the light at the end of the tunnel," I comment. That is the expression we came up with when we talk about the end of our very long separation.

"I'm gonna burn the fucking tunnel once we're out of there."

I burst out laughing because that comment is just so Lilian I can't even.

"Ok, it's time to go now."

I nod and we walk to the entrance of the security check in silence, holding hands. This part is always the hardest, especially since we have two very different ways of saying goodbye: I am one for long and heartbreaking, while Lilian, who is way more collected than I am, prefers to make it fast so it doesn't hurt too much.

"I love you," she says and pulls me in for one last kiss, the one that I never want to break.

"I love you, too. And I'll miss you."

I can't resist and kiss her again, even if I know it's just making things harder. She lets me do it, though, she knows I need it.

"Text me when you land in Madrid, and then when you land at LAX, ok?" I plead, although I know she'll do it anyway.

"Bye, Short Stuff. I'll see you in about three months."

I watch her walk away and I can't resist, I need to make her turn around and look at her one more time. And then one more, and one more. It's never going to be enough. I'll never get used to watching her leave.

"Hey, babe?" I call her. She stops and turns to me. "Next time I pick you up here, it's gonna be for good."

A smile lights up her face and she nods, then she waves goodbye and leaves, disappearing through the sliding doors.

I walk out of the terminal and to the parking lot, while I feel the tears start streaming down my face, as it always happens when Lilian and I part. I never manage to get to my car before I begin crying, but at least I can pull myself together long enough so that she doesn't have to see it. Coming to live in Spain has been my decision, so I don't want to make it harder on her with my tears.

I drive back home slowly, with my eyes still a little clouded, and I daydream of the next time Lilian will get here, in five more months, only this time I won't have to let her go ever again.

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