I Was Never Your Ice Age

When my boyfriend, Mike, was reported missing after an accident during a geological survey, he managed to send back only three final messages.

The first was a formal work update. The second was an apology to his parents.

The third was a single sentence:

"Kendra, you are my Quaternary Ice Age."

Kendra was my best friend. They were both brilliant geologists. Years ago, behind my back, they had applied to the exact same university program. Later, they became the most synchronized research partners in their field.