Jack said his goodbyes. His choice, not mine. Angie stared into the foggy night sky, watching as the Zeppelin made its way south. She sighed. The pain in her gut cut like a knife. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “No! I’m not going to—”
“Not going to what?”
She spun. An icy breeze flicked the coat flaps against her legs.
“Jack? But you… you left.”
His gaze followed the flying ship. “I couldn’t tell you. They’re after me. Al took my place. He’s safe—he knows how to get lost.”
“What do we do?”
“You see that barge down there? Hasn’t moved, has it?”
“I-I hadn’t noticed.”
He caught her by the waist, pulling her close. Their eyes locked; her chest heaved against his. They inched closer and kissed.
“Hold tight, sweetheart.” He pressed a button on his umbrella, and a propeller snapped open over their heads.
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