Page 90 of We'll Meet Again

“With their own teammates?”

“I’ll admit, that part is less common, but the point remains. You haven’t ruined everything with one punch.”

“It was two punches,” he reminded her. “And they’re starting to feel like nails in my coffin. Or my career’s coffin, anyway.”

She stood on her toes and kissed him softly. “Give it some time. There’s still a lot of football left to play, plus the cup final. When you win that, I’m sure Martin will have more offers than he’ll know what to do with.”

A sudden, overwhelming wave of affection washed over him as he held her gaze. The chill that had once been behind her eyes was gone, replaced with a fiery determination. It was almost as if he could hear his heart, screaming at him -Tell her! Tell her you love her and want to marry her and have babies with her and hold her every night for the rest of your life! Now is as good a time as any!

He shook his head to squash that down. It was better, he realized, to let Billie take the lead on such things. He would obviously be honest if she asked him, but he didn’t want to freak her out, especially with how her last relationship ended. He would never be cruel to her like Greg had been, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her and have it all blow up in his face.

“Can’t say I ever took you for an optimist,” he joked instead.

“Ugh, I know, it’s revolting,” she replied with a sarcastic grin. “But I suppose that’s what I get for hanging around with you all the time.”

Smiling, he kissed her again. “It suits you.”

“You think everything suits me.”

“Well, everything does!”

She giggled. “I’m sorry to delay the naughty appointment we’ve got, but I just need to nip to the loo.”

“Go ahead, I’ll be here.”

The restroom was just across from her desk. He watched her disappear inside before looking at the email again.

Not getting anything sent to me directly, I guess they’re waiting to see how the rest of the season plays out. Are you worried?

Ethan

The bathroom door opened and Billie emerged, shaking excess water from her hands. He watched her smile - beautifully, as always - at the janitor, Jim, who handed her a couple fresh paper towels. He assured her he was just going in to restock, but didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. She thanked him by name, tossed the paper towel in his rolling trash can, and then made her way back to Ethan as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m just finishing my reply to Martin,” he said. “One sec.”

PS - I’m open minded about other clubs, but nothing outside London. My life is here now.

He pressed send. “Let’s head home.”

Chapter 25

Billielookeddownatthe dry, dead grass whispering beneath her boots. She didn’t recognize the boots - brown, leather, and worn as if she had been working in them for years. Neither was she familiar with the dungarees she wore. The denim was caked with dried mud, especially around the hems. She looked out at the field. Where there was once bright, golden flowers, there was now only dusty, beige earth. The gray clouds and bitter winds of winter had taken the flowers and the sunlight.

It had taken more than that. Or so she feared.

She turned her wedding ring around her finger, another thing she wasn’t sure she had seen before. It was a simple thing, a plain gold band, and somehow, it felt more valuable to her than all the jewels in the crown. Her eyes burning, she ventured further into the meadow, to that place they had shared in the springtime before he left. Even without the flowers, she knew it as well as her childhood home. A different winter had claimed that.

Slowly, she sank to her knees, recalling with an aching heart the last time she lay here. It was in his arms and he whispered that he loved her. She blinked. Tears spilled out from her eyes, falling to the ground. The earth soaked it up like rain.

She dipped her hand into her pocket, retrieving his most recent letter, though “recent” didn’t really apply to it anymore. It was from well before Christmas, which had come and gone. Would the new year bring the news she hoped for? Or perhaps it would bring the worst news of all…

She shook her head. It couldn’t be.

Even so, here she was. Why she felt it would be more powerful to pray for him here, she didn’t really know. Yet she was sure there was power in this place. It was where they met, where they said their first goodbye, and where they knew each other as husband and wife for the first time. He had returned from Normandy. Surely, he could return from what the papers called “The Battle of the Bulge” as well. An icy wind tore through the meadow, seeping through her coat and chilling her down to her bones. She shivered and pulled it tighter around her.

“Bring him back to me,” she said to whoever might be listening. Her lips quivered and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Please. I’ll never love anyone else as long as I live. Bring him back. Bring him home.”

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