She wouldn't even look him in the eyes. That fact alone had his shoulders sagging. Jo had intended to leave without a backwards glance. No note. No farewell. It stung in a way he was not prepared for, but he drew it all in. He always knew she would be gone one day, hadn't he? Yet the knowledge she likely didn't even wish to write in her absence had him deflating.

"The States," Zach repeated, as if he needed to hear it again to fully absorb the gravity the words held. He wished to ask her where about in The States and for how long, but the words didn't come. Perhaps, it was better not knowing. In a few hours, she would only be reachable by boat. He would have driven her across the ocean to Merlin knows where. Would she even have a job waiting?

"I..." he tried, his brain filling in the blanks with about a dozen different thoughts. I don't want you to leave. I had hoped you'd write. I wish you would stay. I can't imagine being without you. I love you.

"I...had hoped I wouldn't be too late," he blurted out, his grip tightening on the crate, his gaze sliding away from her, the weight of his next words becoming too unbearable. "To wish you safe travels."