I keep imagining how it will be when I finally say goodbye to him. For so long, I’ve held back my true feelings. I’ve never let him know just how much I care about him, how much I want him to be more in my life.

But, on that last afternoon before I leave, I will tell him the truth.

He won’t be the only one there, but he’ll be the only one I must see. I’ll try to be coy, or maybe just quiet, but I know at some point I will finally say the thing I have always wanted to say.

Maybe I will sequester him to the side, sneaking a moment alone. Maybe I’ll brush my hand against his, casually on purpose. Maybe I’ll look into his eyes, get lost for a moment, then smile and look away. And then I’ll make myself speak.

“You’re a good man. In an industry that’s full of not good men, you were a comfort, a sign of warmth and relief whenever I worked with you. In another situation, or at another time, I might have said something, but this isn’t that time or place. Anyway, thank you for being a good man.”

I’ll lean forward and kiss his cheek. I’ve always wanted to do this. I know this will be my last chance.

I’ll turn away and leave, knowing at least I said it, finally.

But maybe he’ll catch my hand. Squeeze it. Maybe I’ll stop. Turn back towards him.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll see in his eyes what I’ve felt in my heart for so long.

And he’ll tug me towards him.

And I’ll come in close.

And finally feel the warmth of his lips against mine.

Taste his tongue with my own.

Wrap my arms around his neck.

Feel his hands on my hips.

Press my body against his.

Wanting, needing, more.

Maybe.

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