A cab pulled over after a minute, to my drenched figure. I hesitated before opening the door, and glanced over my shoulder. My flimsy blue dress clung to my body, as did my hair to my forehead. My eyeliner smudged and tricked down my cheek.

For some hideous reason, I was waiting for a Hollywood moment, when he would run out and pull me into a long kiss, and agree with every condition I made because he couldn’t live without me. He would be spontaneous, and passionate, and sweep me off my feet.

Instead, I stood shivering in the rain, looking ridiculous. When I finally swung myself into the leather passenger seat of the cab, I immediately checked my phone. I had no new texts.

It was then that I decided to return home, to the family I had forsaken for him all those years ago.

“Where to?” the foreign driver asked.

“JFK airport, please,” I answered, my voice thick with sobs, and I took to watching the rain pound on the glass windows.