I can’t stop glancing at Vivian at the airport.

Bill, Trace, and Miller are all lost in their own little worlds. Bill isn’t getting drunk, which is a good thing, although I still never plan on working with him again. He did his job earlier, and that’s all I can ask from him.

But I keep looking at Vivian and wondering what she’s thinking. I feel like we were in a bubble back there in Sellersville, with the threat of danger hanging over everything we did. Everything felt important and exciting, but now that we’re back in the airport, back in the dull gray and lifeless waiting room with the uncomfortable plastic row chairs and the constant pressure to buy something, I’m worried that whatever magic we had growing between us is going to disappear.

She’s wearing headphones and going over the footage from earlier today. It’s rough but I can tell it’s good already just from what little I saw. We have enough footage now to create a cohesive narrative, and it’s just up to Vivian to write it. I trust her completely, and I won’t try to shove my vision down her throat.

The work stuff is over, more or less. I just worry that if we go back to reality without making this thing real, it may just fade away. It’s like we were on vacation and coming back to reality. What we had back there felt real, but maybe it was only intense in light of our situation and surroundings.

“Henry,” Vivian says, catching me looking at her. “Check this out.”

I feel relieved that she didn’t seem to notice I was staring. I shift over toward her and look at the laptop screen. It’s the raw footage of Tom. She gives me one of her earbuds and she hits play.

In this scene, Tom is talking about the Strips in detail. In fact, it’s surprising detail. He names guys, mentions places they meet up, businesses they use as fronts, and houses they use as hideouts.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asks me.

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“We need to give this to the police.”

I watch her for a second and slowly nod. “You’re right.”

“But how?”

“Well, let’s get it together first. Where else did he talk about this kind of info?”

We go through the video, side by side, falling back into the easy rhythm of work. We cut the footage into a short block of maybe ten minutes total, where he talks about the Strips. It’s not professionally edited by any means, but the cops will be able to get what they need from it.

“Come on,” I say to her, standing. “Come with me.”

I grab the laptop from her lap and help her up. We walk off, away from the guys. I lead the way, making a few turns, heading toward a more empty part of the airport.

Once we’re alone, I turn to her. “Are you sure we can do this?” I ask her. “We’ll be giving up a source.”

She frowns. “Can we blur his face?”

“No,” I say. “At least not from here. We can always just take the audio and send that.”

“Okay,” she says, looking a little nervous. I open the laptop and sit down on the ground. I isolate the audio file before Googling the Sellersville Police Department. Once there, I find a few emails of the narcotics detectives, put them all in a single message. I attach the audio file and write a quick little note in the body.

I look at Viv, finger hovering over the send key. “Last chance. Should we turn back?”

“No,” she says. “Send it. Fuck those guys.”

I grin at her. “Good.” I hit send and shut the lid. “Now that’s done.”

“Now that’s done,” she echoes, nodding. “We really got into it back there, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, things got bad,” I say, laughing. “But we’re getting out of here.”

“Think Tom and Pat will be okay?”

I shrug. “Maybe. Probably. Who knows? That old woman is a survivor if I ever met one.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She leans up against me as we’re sitting there in the abandoned part of the airport. For a second, I can pretend that we’re actually alone.

“Listen, I need to say something,” I say softly to her.

“What?” she asks, looking at me.

“This, what’s happening between us… it’s real, right?”

She stares back at me. “I think so.”

“You need to know that it’s real, Viv. I know what happened in the past was bad but… I want more. I want you back in my life.”

“I’m back,” she says, practically a whisper.

I reach up and pull her against me, kissing her hard. She returns the kiss, mouth open, tongue against mine. I’m hard in a second, and I wish I could do something about it.

“I love you,” I whisper to her. “Always have. Never stopped.”

“I love you too,” she answers. “Always have.”

I pull her tight against me. This is real, and this is going to last back home. This isn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t sure, but this kiss, the way she touches me, I know it’s all real. I’ve never felt anything like it before and I know I’ll never feel anything like it again. She’s here, she’s really here, and she’s not going anywhere.

Neither am I. No more running away or pushing her away. No more mistakes. I’m making her mine and I’m keeping her, because there’s nothing else for me. There’s only her, only the woman that makes me feel more alive than ever before, the woman that tests me, improves me, makes me strive to be a better man. She gave me everything I am, even if she doesn’t know it.

Now she knows it, and she’s here to stay. I’d be an idiot if I let that go, and I never will.