Though, maybe it wasn’t? When one was planning a wild, dramatic declaration of love, did it matter if one arrived at a socially acceptable hour? Besides, even if he didn’t love her back, Max would need her. His father was dead, and he had ascended to the role he had never wanted. It was settled; she was going to ask Leo to take her directly to—

A sharp rapping on the glass wall next to her startled her. She turned and— “Oh my god!”

It was Max. Here, in the airport. In the waiting area to board the plane she’d just gotten off, which was scheduled to return to New York.

She was stunned into immobility, frozen in place even as he started gesturing frantically. His hair was wild, and so were his eyes. He had one arm in his coat and one arm out.

“What are you doing here?” she finally said dumbly. He couldn’t hear her, of course. But she couldn’t make any sense of his waving of arms, nor could she read his rapidly moving lips.

He stopped all of a sudden, went quiet, and held up his index finger. He was asking her to wait. She nodded. He turned away for what felt like ages, doing something she couldn’t see on one of the chairs in the waiting area.

Her heart started thundering in her ears as she watched the people around him start lining up to get on the plane she’d come off. Oh god, she was going to pass out right here in the arrivals area of the Zurich airport.

When Max finished with whatever he’d been doing, he came back to the glass, and he was smiling. Flashing her one of his cat-that-ate-the-canary Max grins. She felt a little more grounded. Whatever was going to happen, that smile told her that she hadn’t lost her friend.

He slapped a ripped piece of paper against the glass. It looked like part of a printed boarding pass that had been ripped off. He’d written in the margin, in his heavy, angular handwriting.

I’m sorry.

Before she could react, he replaced it with another scrap of boarding pass.

I love you.

She gasped. Tears appeared from nowhere, and she had to wipe them away to make sure she didn’t miss anything he’d written on a series of scraps he was holding up to the glass in quick succession.

I was coming to New York to tell you that.

Because at Christmas you tell the truth, and the truth is that I’m in love with you.

I’m sorry I proposed to you.

Well, I’m not sorry, but you know what I mean.

I hope you don’t think this is creepy like in the movie.

She burst out crying.