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You have to stop and take a breath in the doorway of the bar when you spot him.
Maybe you can still stop him from dying if you tell him now? Or maybe telling him is what causes it all? You still don’t fully understand any of it.
You’ve read his Masters thesis twice. You needed to lie down afterwards.
He gives a subtle indication he’s spotted you; a nod and a lift of a finger off the arm of his chair.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” he says.
You force a laugh, fussing with your bag as you sit down so he doesn’t get a proper look at you. Mercifully a waitress picks that moment to come to the table.
“Diet coke” you say before giving him a quick glance, “and a vodka tonic.”
He smiles and you know for certain now that it’s an in joke.
You’re going to miss him every time he laughs.