Disclaimer: I'm insane, but I'm not that fun kind of insane.
In Spain, he had his suspicions, beginning with the late-night coffee at the truck stop. The quiet fear in her eyes, contradicting the way she had willingly, wordlessly trusted him with everything. Now, in Tangier, they're confirmed. He's been here before; seen these yellow lights, that dark dye gurgling down that dingy bathroom sink, and finally felt—a hand, hesitant, offering...
Maybe fate's given him a second chance. Maybe he just sees her everywhere. Either way, he knows exactly what to do: he takes Nicky to a bus and says his goodbye.
Then he walks away and doesn't look back.