Joan knows that it's not okay at all. It hurts to be going away, not knowing when she'll be back. It's miles better than it would have been had she left without seeing him again and intending to never come back, but it's still so hard.
"I love you," she whispers, and kisses him again, that trace of desperation growing.
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"I love you," she whispers, and kisses him again, that trace of desperation growing.