Your mom took her luggage to the sidewalk while you and I said our goodbyes.
“Call me, okay? Let me know you got in safe.”
“Okay.” You hugged me.
I pulled away and smiled. “No you won’t,” I said. “You suck at using the phone.”
“But I will.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because when I hugged you, I smelled your hair. And I wouldn’t smell your hair if I didn’t mean what I said, that I’ll call you.” You’re holding my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes. You're wearing that shirt I bought you, the brown one that you love.
“You smelled my hair?” I smile and raise my eyebrows.
“Yeah, like this.” We hug again, and this time, I feel you inhale, and my hair moves away from my neck. We kiss cheeks, and I feel so safe.
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