Flip the Colleague [Flip Zimmerman]

Ch 7: Long Distance

Flip drove you to the airport in near silence. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, distant and detached, as if he had built an emotional shield around himself. You couldn't help but feel the weight of it as you knew, somewhere deep down, that it was your doing.

You'd told him you had to leave, even after he asked you to stay. 

Salt Lake was your chance to see if things could work, not just for your career, but because Flip's request wasn't exactly a promise, not a guarantee. The two of you hadn't fully crossed into commitment territory yet. You were standing on the edge, and as much as leaving him felt like ripping your heart out, staying and risking failure and everyone's safety was something you couldn't forgive yourself for.

It was a decision made with logic, not emotion - the way your job had trained you to think.

Halfway through the ride, Flip exhaled deeply and let his hand fall on your leg—a quiet, tentative olive branch. You placed your hand over his, your thumb brushing gently against his skin. He didn't look at you, eyes fixed on the road, but the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed a soft, almost imperceptible smile.

When he pulled into the departure lane, his hand gave your leg one last squeeze before lifting to put the truck in park. The engine hummed in the heavy, suffocating silence. You sat frozen, every second stretching painfully.

Finally, he turned toward you. You met his gaze, steady and unwavering. He said nothing, but the exhaustion and unforgiving weight of what he was holding back spoke louder than words.

"I'm sorry. I really wan—" you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cut you off.

"Don't. Just... don't." His tone was blunt, final, and it left no room for argument.

You stepped out into the cool night air, your fingers brushing the door handle as you retreated. Walking around the bed of the truck to grab your suitcases, you found that he was already there, unloading them for you. He set the last bag on the sidewalk, stepped back, and looked toward the entrance. He drew a deep breath before returning his gaze to you.

"Let me know when you land," he said quietly.

"Of course," you replied. Your eyes prickled, and you reached for him, silently hoping he wouldn't turn away from a goodbye hug.

He didn't hesitate. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against his chest. You closed your eyes, taking him in - the warmth, the weight of him, the steady beat of his heart against your ear. A quiet sob escaped as you exhaled, and he let out a low, almost imperceptible sigh.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, remaining still, silent. When you finally pulled back and met his gaze, you saw the faint redness in his eyes, but his face betrayed nothing but a quiet, restrained disappointment. A wave of guilt surged through you, heavy and suffocating, for leaving him, even though you knew it had to be done.

"Flip, please... tell me you understand," you pleaded, needing to hear that you were leaving on some kind of amicable terms.

He let go of you and let out a long, heavy sigh, gaze dropping to the ground. He was holding so much back, and you could feel it in the tension of his shoulders, the quiet in his voice.

"I get it. I understand," he said finally, shoving his hands into his pockets, eyes fixed on his feet. "I just... I don't like it." His voice cracked slightly. "And...I don't want this to be goodbye for us. I need to know I'm going to see you again."

You stepped closer, tilting his chin gently with your hand so his gaze met yours. "Then I promise you will." You rose onto your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, pulling back just slightly, your lips barely a whisper apart.