The airport at three am is a dead space. Sam Healy sat in his truck, hands trembling. The flight wouldn't arrive for another hour and a half, but he hadn't been able to sleep at all anyway.
Katya would be in his arms sooner than he could even comprehend.
It didn't feel that way.
The sun hadn't even begun to creep above the skyline. No glowing haze behind the clouds. Outside, the world was dark, sleeping still in the sharp chill of the September night. Inside, Sam felt it was the best Christmas anyone had ever had.
Bright lines of the analog clock changed at a slow pace. One minute at a time.
With an hour and twenty-five minutes left, Sam ventured into the small sister airport of JFK. There weren't many gates, and, as a result, there weren't many people mulling about. His drop-dead gorgeous fiancé would be easy to spot.
Now, all he had to do was wait.