Jack was his office when she stopped by. It seemed fitting to end her life in New York at 30 Rock. That's where her life in New York really began, after all. And, in a way, where her life in Cleveland would be traced to.

"Lemon," he greeted her tersely. He'd made no secret of his disapproval of her choice to move. He liked Floyd, thought he was a good match for Liz, but Jack couldn't get on board with anyone moving to Cleveland (that was his excuse, anyways, and Liz didn't press him on it).

"So Floyd and I are about to leave for the airport," she felt uncharacteristically hesitant.

"Enjoy your flight," Jack nodded.

"No parting words of wisdom," Liz teased, but there was no levity in her voice. She felt the way his avoidance was pulling her down, making her heart ache.

"You don't need any," he replied honestly. "You're finally making your own decisions." The hint of recrimination in his voice was unmistakable.

"After tonight," she looked at the carpet. "I guess I won't be a New Yorker anymore."

"You'll always be a New Yorker," Jack retorted. "This is where you belong."

Liz looked up, met his eyes, and the tumultuous, stark emotions there made her quickly avert her gaze.

"Nah," she shrugged. "I'm a Philly girl. I was just passing through, here in New York. Most people are."

Standing, Jack looked her over from head to toe. Her simple, navy sheath dress and matching pumps were at odds with her oversized, slouchy brown purse.

Liz squirmed under his scrutiny. She wanted, most desperately, to hug him, but he clearly wasn't receptive to the gesture.

After a moment's hesitation, she approached anyways, throwing her arms around his waist and holding tightly. He paused for a moment before returning the embrace, his grip on her almost crushing.

She thought she heard him mumble, don't go, into her hair, but she couldn't be sure.

They didn't speak. Jack kissed her cheek, lingering far longer than appropriate under the circumstances. Liz left without looking back.

Hours later, Liz looked forlornly out the window of the airplane, wondering why she felt such despair.

This was what she wanted, right?

Cleveland.

Floyd.

Marriage.

Kids, white picket fence, compact SUV.

This was her choice.

Floyd squeezed her hand gently and she returned the gesture but couldn't break her gaze from New York, fading into nothingness below her.