When someone wants to leave, the exit gets simple. Bag closed. Hug done. Door open.

A stretched goodbye has extra tasks attached, and most of them are invented on the spot. She checks her phone but does not walk. She remembers one more question. She gets halfway to the door, then turns back with a comment that could have been said earlier. Her friends may already be outside, watching through the glass.

She is not confessing anything. She is keeping the last few minutes from closing too neatly.