36
Now October
Bridget boards flight AC119 to Australia on October twenty-ninth. Miles is already in Sydney, house hunting in the inner west suburbs, so I ride with her to the airport. It’s the only time I’ve wished for heavy traffic on the way to Pearson, and the only time the roads are empty.
As we sail up the highway, I hold her hand so tightly, she complains she can’t feel her fingers but I don’t let go. Right now, holding Bridget’s hand is the only thing keeping me together. If I let go, I’ll shatter into a million jagged pieces.
Once we arrive, I load her luggage onto a cart and lift her suitcases onto the baggage scale, because Bridget is six weeks pregnant.
I walk with her to the security gate. I stay with her until the very last moment. And then I hug her until we’re both crying in the middle of the terminal and an elderly woman passes us each a tissue.
I tell Bridget she’s my best friend. I tell her that I’ll miss her. I tell Bridget
that I love her more than anyone.
And then I let go.
