By Francesc Borrull · Sep 2, 2024

The airport was a labyrinth of fleeting moments, where time seemed to stretch and compress, suspended in the echoing footsteps and distant murmur of announcements. Among the throngs of hurried travelers, two figures stood still, anchored in a world of their own. The departure gate loomed ahead, a portal to separate fates, and the weight of what was unsaid hung heavy in the air between them.

Elena’s fingers clenched around the worn leather strap of her bag, her knuckles blanching as if the pressure alone could anchor her to this moment. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, each one a struggle against the tightness constricting her throat. She glanced up at Sebastian, her eyes shimmering, but not yet spilling over. She swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump that had lodged itself there.

“Sebastian,” she began, her voice trembling as if she were walking a tightrope, her words teetering on the edge of breaking. The airport’s din swallowed her whisper, leaving it lost amid the cacophony of hurried farewells and rushing footsteps. She blinked rapidly, her vision blurring, as she fought to hold herself together, to find the words that could possibly carry the weight of this moment.

Sebastian’s eyes searched hers, his hand hovering near hers, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin, but unable to close the gap. His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching as he struggled to keep his own emotions in check. The faint scent of her perfume—jasmine, and something warm, like home—wafted between them, a cruel reminder of what he was about to lose.

“Don’t say it,” he whispered, his voice rough and barely holding. His hand twitched, aching to reach for her, to pull her into his arms and erase the distance between them. “Please, Elena, don’t say goodbye.”

Elena bit her lower lip, the pressure sending a tremor through her chin. She wanted to tell him that she couldn’t, that leaving him felt like ripping her heart out, but the words stuck in her throat. She could feel her pulse hammering in her temples, the reality of their parting pressing down on her like a weight she couldn’t bear. The tear that had been clinging stubbornly to her lashes finally broke free, tracing a burning path down her cheek.

Just then, a traveler passed by, oblivious to the silent storm brewing between them. The man, in his rumpled suit, held an ice cream cone, and his tongue darted out to catch a melting droplet. He licked it with a childlike enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the sterile, hurried environment of the airport. The vibrant swirl of raspberry and vanilla stood out against the gray monotony, a flash of color in a world drained of light.

Elena’s gaze followed the man, her heart twisting with the irony of it all. How could something so simple, so pure, exist in a moment like this? She found herself captivated by the sight, the innocence of the gesture, the way the man seemed utterly absorbed in his small, sweet pleasure. A fleeting moment of happiness, she thought, one that would melt away just as quickly as the ice cream in his cone.

“Look at him,” she whispered, her voice a mix of wonder and despair. “He’s savoring that ice cream as if it’s the most important thing in the world… as if he’s holding onto the last bit of sweetness before it all disappears.”

Sebastian followed her gaze, his expression softening as he watched the man, oblivious to the heartache around him. The sight was almost absurd in its simplicity, a reminder that life moved on, that happiness could still be found, even in the smallest of things. For a moment, the ice cream cone became a symbol of everything they had lost—those fleeting, sweet moments of joy that had once defined their love, now slipping away, melting into the past.

“It’s like he’s living in his own world,” Sebastian murmured, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “One where nothing else matters… not the past, not the future. Just that one perfect moment.”

Elena’s grip on her bag loosened, her fingers trembling as she reached up to wipe away her tears. The absurdity of it all, the way life could continue in such a normal, mundane way, even as her world was falling apart, struck her deeply. She let out a shaky laugh, hollow and filled with sorrow. “Maybe that’s what we were, Sebastian. Just a fleeting moment of sweetness… something to savor before it melts away.”

Sebastian’s hand finally moved, bridging the gap to touch hers, his fingers trembling as they wrapped around her cold hand. “But it was real, Elena. It was real, and it mattered. Even if it was fleeting.”

A shudder ran through Elena, and she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled over, hot and unchecked, as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. “I love you, Sebastian,” she choked out, her voice breaking as she tried to catch her breath between the sobs. “I always will. But we… we have to let go.”

Sebastian’s grip tightened on her hand, his knuckles going white with the effort to keep her close, just a little longer. But he knew she was right. This was it. The end. His eyes burned, but he blinked the tears away, refusing to let them fall. Not here. Not now. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her one last time, but the fear of the finality that gesture would bring kept him rooted in place.

The final boarding call echoed through the terminal, and Elena’s eyes widened in panic. She hesitated, her body stiffening as if every step forward would tear her further from the life she had known. She turned toward the gate, her feet dragging, every step a monumental effort. Sebastian’s hand slipped from hers, their fingers trailing apart until only their fingertips touched, then nothing.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to move, to leave behind the man who had meant everything to her. But just before she stepped through the gate, she paused, her body trembling, and turned back. Their eyes met, and in that brief, heart-stopping moment, they said everything that words had failed to convey. A tear slipped down Sebastian’s cheek, and he nodded, giving her the strength to take that final step.

With a trembling smile, Elena turned away and walked through the gate, the soft click of the door behind her sealing their fate.

Sebastian stood frozen, his arms hanging limply at his sides. The world around him moved on, but he was stuck in that moment, replaying the last sight of her tear-streaked face. He clenched his jaw, the pain in his chest expanding until it threatened to crush him. His whispered words, the ones he hadn’t been able to say aloud, slipped out into the emptiness she had left behind:

“Goodbye, my love.”

© Francesc Borrull, 2024