Maybe it was the way he looked at me or the way he listened to me. Hell, it could have been the way we laughed together. Or maybe it was the spark I felt when his hand enveloped mine. I’ve wondered if it was one of those moments in the universe where all the stars align—where every little choice made in life led us to that airport on that exact night. Maybe it was just a little bit of magic. Inexplicable and undeniable all at once. What I do know for sure is that it’s been eight months, and I still think about Sebastian Rousseau every damn day.
