One Last Call Before Goodbye Chapter 02
The early morning fog had gradually lifted. JFK Airport hummed with its usual steady noise.
Darlene stood at the arrivals gate, pulling out a compact mirror every few moments to check her appearance.
She’d put on makeup, but it did little to hide her sickly, pallid complexion.
She drew a deep breath, trying to look livelier.
At 11:35 a.m., the flight from D.C. touched down. People began streaming out of the exit in twos and threes.
Amid the crowd, Darlene spotted Marshall, the man she hadn’t seen in five years.
He wore a camel-colored overcoat. His frame was still tall and broad, but thinner than before. The gentle air he’d once carried had sharpened into something colder.
Marshall spotted her at the same moment.
It wasn’t even that cold out, yet she was bundled in a cream puffer jacket and a blue knit beanie, looking thin and fragile.
As their eyes met, a flood of emotions surged through her.
She fought back the tears, but her eyes reddened anyway as she walked toward him. “I thought you wouldn’t come…”
His gaze on her was as deep as ever, but that fierce, unwavering persistence from before was gone.
“I made you a promise. I don’t go back on my word.”
He paused, then asked, “What did you want to see me about?”
Darlene lowered her eyes. Inside her pockets, her hands curled slowly into fists. “I… I just wanted to see you. How long are you staying this time?”
He rubbed his thumb over the handle of his suitcase. “‘Three days. Maybe four. I happen to have some time off.”
As they talked, they made their way outside, their tones polite and distant. Like they were two lines that had once crossed and were now drifting further and further apart.
At the airport entrance, a black sedan pulled up in front of them. A hotel attendant in uniform stepped out.
Marshall handed over his luggage. “Drop it at the hotel. I’ve got things to do.”
“Right away.”
Darlene took Marshall to a café.
Inside the private booth, it was quiet, the air rich with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
She moved with practiced ease, measuring out the freshly ground beans, starting the pour-over, and then setting the cup in front of him. “Try it.”
Rubbing the rim with his slender fingers, he studied her over the edge of the cup as he took a sip.
“You used to hate coffee more than anything. So your taste has changed?”
Darlene’s hand stilled. Back then, she’d been all about soda, while Marshall was the one who loved coffee.
But after they broke up, she’d had coffee almost every day. Not because she liked it, but because in that familiar bitterness, she could pretend, just for a little while, that they had never parted ways.
At the thought, she smiled bitterly, “People’s tastes change.”
Cups in hand, the two of them sat in silence.
Just then, voices drifted in from passing customers. They could faintly make out a quiet debate—which was harder, giving up or keeping going.
Darlene’s gaze stilled. She thought back to that high school debate competition freshman year, the very one where she’d first gotten to know Marshall.
She looked at him, catching the faint nostalgia deep in his eyes.
“Remember our high school debate topic? Whether it’s harder to give up or to persist. I argued for the latter. And I won.”
Something flickered through Marshall’s dark gaze.
Darlene set her cup down, her voice slightly hoarse. “Let’s debate it again. We’ll swap sides this time. See who wins.”
“Okay.” He looked at her.
She drew a deep breath. Her tone was calm, but beneath each word lay the bitterness of the past five years.
“Giving up means letting go of everything and everyone you care about, burying all your joy deep inside, and forcing yourself not to remember, not even to think about it, through all the years that follow.”
Marshall shot back quickly, “Persisting is enduring the same torment, day after day after day, with no hope in sight.
“Giving up only takes a second of courage. But persisting? That means convincing yourself all over again, every single day.”
Darlene’s grip on her cup tightened.
She retorted, her voice low, “No. Giving up isn’t a single-second thing. Before you truly decide to let go, you’ve already fought yourself countless times. That tug-of-war inside? That’s the hardest part.”
“But someone who persists doesn’t even have the luxury of struggling.” Marshall looked her in the eye. “He can only keep moving forward. Even if a dead end is waiting for him, he has to reach it before he understands what his decision will cost him.”
Their words picked up speed, clashing like swords, sparks flying with every strike.
At the most heated moment, Marshall blurted out, “You walked away from five years. Tell me how that doesn’t prove persisting is harder.”
In an instant, all the strength drained from Darlene. She simply didn’t know what to say.
Then a surge of metallic sweetness rose in her throat. Panicked, she turned away and coughed.
Marshall’s expression tightened. He immediately poured a glass of water and handed it to her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that…”
She shook her head gently and gave him a pale, strained smile.
“This time, you win.”