“I just got your email,” he says. “I was sure I was going to miss you.” “I can’t believe it’s you,” I say. “It’s me,” he says. His eyes slide open. “You really didn’t know?” “Not a clue,” I say. I study his profile. He has these lips that meet just barely, like the slightest touch would coax them open. His ears are slightly big and there are two freckles on his cheekbone. And his eyelashes are more dramatic than I’ve ever noticed.
