He was very restless and busied himself with the final items to be added to his rucksack. He offered her the remaining chocolates from the box he'd received for his birthday, and then took a look in all the cupboards to see if he'd missed anything. This was the third time he'd done it but her company was unnerving him.
The minutes dragged out but finally the time came for him to be off. He slipped his arms through the shoulder straps and shrugged the rucksack onto his back. Fuck, it was heavy. He slung the painting over his right shoulder, the thin string digging in a little but his layers of clothing offered protection.

In a moment they were out of the door and, without looking back, locked it and headed off for the car park and the waiting car. His close friend was already there, standing by the Subaru station-wagon; he wanted to make the trip to the airport too, and loaded the luggage into the car.
He was glad his friend had wanted to come. He'd be sad to lose his company and wanted to hang onto it until the last possible moment.

He turned to face his ex, hugged her, then gave her a gentle kiss on her right cheek. Before entering the car he sadly said goodbye. It wasn't how he imagined their parting to be. If only she'd said something. He'd no idea what, just something. He wanted to speak himself but found the words stick in his throat. He closed the car door and they were on their way.