“Thanks for the ride.” I tip the taxi driver and heft my bag onto the sidewalk. The airport is bustling, even on a weekday morning. I shouldn’t be shocked; it is summer, after all. The perfect time to visit paradise.

The air conditioner cools my sweat when I get inside, and I hate myself for burying my cardigan back in my suitcase.

“Mollie!”

My head snaps up. Kai runs towards me, his flip-flops thwacking on the tile, keys jingling in his hand.

“What are you— Oh.” Of course. “Tanya?”

He smiles, panting. “Tanya.”

We stand there, me shivering, him sweating, as passengers mill around us and all the things we could say fizzle out.

“You don’t have to leave early because of me.” He scratches the back of his head, looking up at me from under his brow. “I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

I tilt my head, squinting at him. “I’m not.”

“You aren’t leaving?”

“No, I’m leaving—but it isn’t because of you.”

He squints back. “It isn’t?”

“I got a call this morning about a job interview. It’s in three days, back in my hometown, so I have to leave now if I’m going to get my apartment packed up and make it there in time.” Slowly, I smile; it’s impossible not to. “Awfully arrogant of you. But then again, I do apparently throw myself into oceans when I can’t have a guy I like, so.”

Kai blushes, tonguing his cheek to hide his smile. “Tanya,” he says again, sighing.

We sink back into silence. My phone alarm buzzes.

“Time to go.” I let go of my luggage, not wanting to rush him. “Unless you have something else you wanted to say.”

“Right.” He exhales, squeaking his shoes on the floor while he searches for the words. “Well, first of all: I was an idiot.”

“Good so far.”

He smiles, but it flickers. “You were right. About me taking over the business because I felt guilty for Noe dying, and me pushing you away, and....” He stops, taking another breath. “Wow. This is a lot harder than I expected.”

“Keep going. You’re doing better than you think.”

He steps closer, pulls his hands out of his pockets, and takes mine. His thumb skims my knuckles. “I’m not taking over the business.”

“You’re not?”

“No. The franchise stuff, expansion…that’s Luka’s thing. Not mine.”

“So...what are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure yet. But maybe that’s okay, not knowing. I mean, if you can at least figure out what you don’t want, you’re halfway there, right?”

I laugh. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

He smiles again and leans down, kissing me, his hands sliding up to hold my face. I put mine on his back and feel his heartbeat, steady as the ocean. It sweeps me up and for a second, I forget all about the flight.

“Well,” he says, pulling back, “that’s what I needed to tell you.”

“I’m glad you did,” I whisper. He presses his lips to my forehead and holds them there. I close my eyes. “What now?”

“Now,” he says, his breath like bathwater across my face, “you get on that plane, think about me the entire flight, and call me when you land.”

As we pull apart, I let my hands slide down his chest. His T-shirt is damp, and I can see the darkness of his rash guard through the fabric. “And…after that?”

He puts his hand over one of mine. “After that, we go on about our days. Then I call you the next day, or you call me, and we catch up and talk about how much we miss each other. Maybe get into some…adult situations.”

“Hmm. This sounds a lot like a long-distance relationship.” The scent of the ocean and our sun-kissed skin rises when he puts his arms around my waist. “Is that what you want it to be?”

“It has to be.” His hold on me tightens, pressing my body against his like it belongs there. “The only other option would be breaking up.” I lift my chin as he leans to kiss me one more time. “And I’m never doing anything that stupid again.”

* * *

It’s funny: later, when I call and tell the story to Tanya, she swoons before she even gets the details—Tanya, who rolls her eyes at love stories, who often scolds me for falling too hard and too fast, or for falling at all. But then, when I tell her all about his goodbye and our new long-distance, see-what-happens plan, she asks, “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’ What more would there be?”

“He didn’t make plans to come see you? He didn’t, like, pick you up and tell you he loves you?”

“Tanya. We met less than a week ago. It’s not a romance movie.”

“I know, but God—he did the whole mad dash to the airport thing. Commit, Kai.”

I can’t help but laugh at this hypocrisy: nobody is further from commitment than Tanya. “The important part is that we’re both in the same place about things. We want to see where this goes and give it a fair shot.”

Truth is, I am disappointed Kai didn’t come with me, though even I’d admit that would be a pretty ridiculous decision on his part. His family does still need him, for a little while. And I’ve got plenty to figure out on my own, first.

On the plane, my body feeling numb without his, I curled up against the window and pretended I was arriving, instead of leaving. I watched the newcomers spill into the terminal. They laughed with their heads thrown back, cheesy floral-print shirts blurring into one big mess of color.

I couldn’t see Kai; he was too far back in the building, stopped at the security check. It really wasn’t like the romance movies, after all.

But that was all right, because movies don’t make any sense. People in those have their lives figured out and every loose end fixed in just two hours. Their lives follow a formula, complete with the instant happy ending: big rush to the airport, dramatic kiss, fireworks. Cue the denouement, with a flash-forward epilogue to some house in the suburbs.

Our story won’t be like that. At least, not yet. I don’t have a giant ring on my finger and some musical number gearing up about true love and destiny. All I’ve got is Kai’s cell number, programmed into my phone just before I boarded.

I don’t know where we’re headed. All I know is that this time, we’re both willing to try and find out.

And for now, that’s more than enough.