She should have known better. That last night before they flew out to the launch site, she’d looked up at the moon, two hundred and fifty thousand miles away, and known she’d be going light years beyond it. She could have ignored his knock. She could have left it at that first kiss. Pulled back, softened her rejection with a smile and another sip of wine. The whole time, she’d known that it was a mistake to look for comfort from him. He was not hers. But she was too much of a coward to spend her last night of her old life on Earth alone, counting down the hours and minutes until she flew out
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