Page 96 of Ten Years and Then…
“I hate it, but—I think the same place we were before tonight.”
Nora, a moment later
Daniel was right.
Of course he was. A few hours, a few kisses, and two off-key karaoke performances didn’t change anything. How could they?
She still loved him. He still loved her. They still couldn’t be together.
“You remember our promise?”
He didn’t answer, at least not in words. He pulled the necklace out from under his shirt.
“Is that really why you’re still wearing it? Or do you just not know how to take it off?”
It was a joke; he had to know it was a joke. So why was he blushing?
“The truth?” She nodded, even though she definitely didn’t want it. “It’s ninety-eight percent our promise, and two percent I can’t get it off myself and I didn’t want anyone else touching it.”
She wanted to laugh. Or throw something at him. Or both. How could he joke about it, especially right now?
Or maybe this was a perfect time to joke. And, anyway, ninety-eight percent was pretty good, wasn’t it? “You honestly don’t know the trick?” He shook his head. She reached over, grabbed the necklace gingerly, and pulled it around until the clasp was in front. “You’ve got a computer science degree, and you’re a Team Leader and your IQ probably qualifies for Mensa, and you couldn’t figure that out for yourself?”
Now he wasn’t merely blushing; he was beet red. “Swear to God, I never thought of that. It seems pretty obvious now.”
“It was obvious to me when I was seven years old, Daniel.” She believed him, though. It was exactly the kind of simple, practical thing that a man who’d never worn jewelry except possibly for his high school class ring, wouldn’t know. “But now you know. So you can take it off whenever you want.”
He shook his head again. “I don’t want to. The only time I even thought about it was a year ago, at Uncle Fred’s house. I was going to go in his pool, and I wanted to take it off so it wouldn’t get—I don’t know, corroded or something. You know, with the chlorine in the water?”
“That wouldn’t hurt gold, Daniel. People don’t take their wedding rings off to go swimming. You know that, right?” He had been returning to his normal color, but he was back to red again. “Right. You never thought about that. One more question. Why didn’t you want to let someone else help you take it off?”
“Because nobody besides you should ever touch it.” He smiled, a gentle, loving smile. “Do you honestly not know that?”
Daniel, an hour later
He didn’t want this to end. But it had to.
Putting all his emotions aside, it was a matter of practicality. It was already after one o’clock in the morning, almost one-thirty, and he had to be up at six-thirty so he could shower, dress and be at the booth by seven. And he needed to be at his best; it would be the busiest day of the conference.
And surely Nora had a big day ahead as well. She needed her rest just as much.
He could ask her to stay here, sleep here—but regardless of their best intentions, if they were together under the covers, there wouldn’t be any sleep. It was difficult enough to keep his hands off of her sitting up and fully clothed, and he could see it was the same for her; she gave it away with her eyes, and in the way her breathing was too fast and shallow and in every bit of her body language.
She was thinking the same thing; of course she was. “I think I should go.” She paused. “I don’t want to. But …”
“I know. I feel the same way. I’ll walk you down to your room. And maybe ...”
She smiled; it was that smile. “Maybe after the show floor closes today, we can have dinner.”
He stood up, held out a hand for her. She took it, and let him lead her to the door. “Not maybe. Definitely. Come by the booth at closing time, meet me there.” Unless she had a big interview, or something else she couldn’t get away from. “Or, if you can’t get there right then, call me.” The cell phone was right there on the dresser, next to the coffee pot. He grabbed it and read her the number. She went into her purse, pulled out a pen. The pen he’d given her. Of course she still had it.
“Got it,” she said, jotting it down in a little notebook. “See, pen and paper. You know, I started putting a notebook in my purse that morning, as soon as I got back upstairs to my room.”
“You always were a fast learner.” They were down the hall, in and out of the elevator and down the hall again to her room in a minute. Much too fast.
“If I remember right, that was you,” she said, giving him a look that would have melted his heart if it wasn’t already a puddle.
He leaned in, kissed her. She kissed him back, and it was so difficult to pull away. He didn’t know where the strength to do it came from, and a part of him wished he didn’t have that strength.
