And stand in the way they did. When we arrived in Europa, I skulked through the port, avoiding eye contact whenever I could. It really did seem like we would get away with it, but I couldn't shake the vague sense of shame and self-loathing that was building up inside me. I saw you at the baggage claim. You seemed to be sobbing. Some passer-by had his arm around you and was offering you a tissue. He looked like the handsome type. I only just remembered that now. Funny, huh? At the time, I didn't feel or notice much of anything. I thought that, for a moment, you saw me there. Did you? Well, there's no point in asking you that now. You can't know. I hurried off as quickly as I could. Part of that was cold rationality, the kind that you taught me. I knew it wouldn't be smart for us to be seen together. But the other part was that shame feeling I mentioned. Would you still look at me in the same way after what I did? Could you? I would never find out. That was the last time I saw you.