Excerpt from a book I'll never write (final goodbye)

“What do we do now?” he asks, looking me in my face but not quite managing to meet my gaze. I know he is afraid of what this question may bring.

I sigh. Such an open-ended question, for which I do not have the answer.

“What can we do?” I reply. He always hated my way of answering his questions with my own.

Another sigh; his this time. Both of us stare at our feet. Both of us cry. The third and final question rings through both of our brains, but it is one we need not bother to ask for we already know the answer. This IS our final goodbye.
I can sense his pleading, his inability to move his feet. I watch him as he twitches uneasily and shifts his weight trying to compose himself.  He loves me so much that he can’t leave…

And I love him so much that I am first to walk away.