I exhale, tilting my head back against the seat. Two days ago, I was curled against his chest, memorizing the rise and fall of his breathing, swearing I’d never forget the way he felt beneath my fingertips. And now I’m here. Back in Charleston. Back to reality.

A voice crackles over the intercom, welcoming us to Charleston. Around me, passengers unbuckle their seat belts, stretching and collecting their belongings. The woman beside me lets out an exhausted sigh before reaching for the overhead bin.

Time to move.

I tuck my phone into my bag and push to my feet, bracing myself for whatever waits beyond the gate.

Baggage claim is a madhouse. People hover around the carousel like vultures, ready to pounce the moment their suitcase makes an appearance. I maneuver through the chaos, scanning the crowd for Violet.

And then I spot her.

Correction: I spot a six-foot inflatable T. rex waving its tiny, useless arms in my direction.

Oh, for the love of⁠—

I stop mid-step, eyes widening as I take in the full spectacle. Violet stands proudly, her ridiculous dinosaur costume inflating and deflating slightly with every movement. In one of her clawed tiny hands, she holds a massive sign that reads the following:

CUSTOMS CHECK: DECLARE YOUR REGRETS AND BAD DECISIONS HERE.

Unrefined laughter, impossible to contain, bursts from my chest. People around me gawk, some chuckling. Others pull out their phones because my best friend has made herself an airport attraction.

God, I missed that menace in mascara.

“Violet,” I call, shaking my head.

She gasps as if she didn’t see me coming and throws her little T. rex arms in the air, running at me.

Well… as much as one can run in a giant inflatable dinosaur suit.

“Oh my God, Mags!” Her voice is muffled by the costume. “Is that you? Have you come to declare your regrets and bad decisions?”

I plant a hand on my hip. “You do realize this is embarrassing, right?”

“Duh.” She wiggles her tiny dino claws. “I knew you’d be sad, so I’m distracting you with my utter lack of shame.”

And there it is. The reason behind the absurdity. She knew I’d barely be holding it together.

That’s Violet. She’s never been the hug you while you cry type. No, she’s the dress up as a prehistoric creature in a crowded airport to make you laugh type.

Emotion knots in my throat, but I swallow it down and go to her, wrapping my arms around the big dumb dinosaur that is my best friend.

“God, I missed you, you damn freak.”

Violet makes a sniffing sound. “I missed you too, Mags. And I hope you know that no other arrival at this airport tonight is getting this level of fanfare.”

“I would be concerned if they were.”