Page 130 of Ten Years and Then…
She caught his tone, and her smile faded. She couldn’t know what was coming, only that it was serious.
“Daniel, what’s wrong? Are you still sick? I thought you looked better, but I can take you down to the sickbay if you want.”
He shook his head. “Leanne, please. This is going to be really hard. Can you sit with me?”
She dropped her purse and came over to the bed. “I’m worried, Daniel. You’re scaring me.”
“I’m not sick. I’m—I don’t even know where to start with this.”
Yes, he did.
He reached into his shirt, pulled out the necklace. “You never asked me about this.”
She stared at it, then back up at him, confusion in her eyes.
“What does your necklace have to do with anything?”
There was no way to make this easier. “I—I’m so sorry, Leanne. I still love—I love the woman who gave it to me. I never stopped. I thought I was over her. It’s been years—we broke up my sophomore year.”
She counted on her fingers. “That’s eight years ago.” The confusion in her eyes was gone; there was pain there, and fire. “What are you telling me?”
“You’re right. It was eight years. And in all that time, I had one girlfriend for a few weeks, and then you. You’re the only woman I’ve been with since her. And after we were together that first time, I had to keep telling myself I wasn’t cheating on her. I thought I believed it. I really did. Bianca’s been after me forever to date someone, to try again, and she introduced us, and you were so sweet. So smart. Just—you’re so great, and I thought maybe it really was time.”
“And it’s not.” The pain won out over her anger; he saw the tears start to fall, and felt them on his own face, too.
“She gave me the necklace. Two years after we broke up. The day I graduated. She had it made specially. You know my birthstone is aquamarine. And hers is sapphire. And I haven’t taken it off since she put it around my neck.”
She almost laughed through her tears. “If I wasn’t the one getting dumped, I’d think it was romantic. But—if you knew you weren’t over her, why …” She did laugh now, without any humor at all. “Because she’s on the ship. That’s why you’re telling me now. Because…I spent this morning talking to her, didn’t I?” He nodded. “How long have you known she was onboard?”
“Since the first night.”
“You bastard!” Her hand flew at his face, but it stopped an inch away. “You—you’ve been seeing her this whole time. And you didn’t tell me.” Why did she stop herself from hitting him? “Did you—did you—were you with her?”
“No.” At least he could say that much for himself. “I had no idea she’d be on the cruise. I saw her the first night. She was across the atrium, and we saw each other, and—we kissed. We kissed, and then we talked, and we told ourselves we’d avoid each other and I’d focus on you and she’d focus on Greg and we’d be adults.”
“But you didn’t.”
“It was in Charleston. She bumped into us. And I decided to find her that night, to try and come up with some kind of plan so it wouldn’t happen again. I knew she’d be at karaoke. We decided to leave notes for each other on the note board, so we’d know where not to be the next day. It worked for Florida, and that night. But then our snorkeling got cancelled the next day …”
He told her the rest, answering every question she had, holding nothing back.
All she had to say when he was done was, “This is why you never told me you loved me.”
“I wish I could have. If I’d never met Nora, and we met like we did back in January, I probably would have asked you to marry me by now. If she hadn’t been on this cruise, I don’t know—maybe a few more months would have been enough to get there anyway.”
She was silent for a long time after that.
“I should hate you. I wish I could.” Daniel almost wished she did, too. It would be easier, in a way, if she did. “But you’re—I’ve never met anyone like you. I don’t know anybody who would wear that necklace all these years like you did.”
“I had to. I never wanted to forget her. Or—or what she taught me. She’s the one who taught me I deserved to be loved.”
“But she left out the part about letting anybody else love you.” She was almost smiling. Almost. “I can’t blame her. I would have left that out, too.” The almost-smile disappeared. “I’m still—I don’t even know what I feel. I don’t know—I think an hour from now, or at three in the morning, or God knows when—I’m going to want to punch you. Or set your clothes on fire. Or buy you a rabbit so I can boil it on the stove.” She sighed. “I don’t know. I can’t exactly throw you out of the cabin, even though I probably should.”
At least he had an answer for that. “I can go to the solarium tonight. Sleep there the rest of the cruise. I probably should have been there all along, from the moment I saw Nora. Anyway, it’s quiet at night there.”
“No.” She shook her head. She looked as surprised as he did at her words. “But you can damn well sleep on the sofa.”
Nora, an hour later
