Page 132 of Ten Years and Then…
He pulled a chair over, sat down next to her. “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what else to say.”
He gently pulled the topmost towel off of her and wiped the tears from her face.
“You told Leanne?” He nodded. “And she didn’t throw you out?”
“I offered to go. Maybe I should have just walked out. But she told me to stay and sleep on the sofa.” She stared up at him, and he saw the question in her eyes. “It’s over between us. She just doesn’t hate me, that’s all.”
“I don’t think Greg’s there yet. I’m not sure he’s ever going to be.”
Daniel wasn’t sure he would be in Greg’s place. “I’m sorry.” It didn’t sound any better the second time he said it. “I keep trying to think of something that’ll make all of this better, and …”
“There’s nothing to say.” She was holding his hands in hers. When had that happened? “Just sit here with me. Hold me. Let me hold you.”
So he did.
Nora, November 14, ten o’clock at night
“Last night on board,” Daniel said quietly. “This is it.” They were in the solarium again, each of them on their own pool chair, laying out and looking up at the stars.
“Back to real life tomorrow,” Nora agreed. It was hard to believe she’d be in her own bed, under Boston skies, twenty-four hours from now.
Daniel was quiet for a while. “It’s going to be hard tomorrow morning. I talked to Leanne earlier. When we get off the ship, I’ll drive her to the airport and buy her a first-class ticket to Charlotte. She argued with me, but I insisted. And I’ll call Bianca to pick her up at the airport there.”
Of course he insisted. She wouldn’t expect anything less from him. “Are you sure she won’t feel weird seeing your cousin?”
“Leanne needs somebody to yell at. And then Bianca can yell at me afterwards.” He said it with dead seriousness, almost like it had already happened and he was just retelling it.
She hadn’t talked to Greg about arrangements for tomorrow. Or anything else. They’d driven down to Baltimore in her car. “I should do that, too. Not the yelling part. The plane ticket. He’s not going to want to drive back with me.” He probably wouldn’t let her buy the ticket for him, though. His pride wouldn’t allow it.
That was a worry for tomorrow morning, though.
Daniel was already ahead of her. He reached over and took her hand. “Let’s not think about anything now. I just want to be with you. Just us and the stars.” Like their first date, nine years ago, when he’d stopped in the middle of the quad to point out constellations to her.
“I like that,” she said. She closed her eyes, holding tightly to his hand, not thinking about tomorrow or the future afterwards or anything at all except for him.
If this is all they had, maybe it was enough. His hand in hers, and the stars looking down on them.
And the promise, that still had three and a half years left to come true.
Chapter 41
After the cruise—Charlotte, NC/Boston, MA
Daniel, November 22
Daniel sat in his kitchen, staring out the window at nothing in particular.
One week ago, he’d walked off the ship and said goodbye to Nora. There had been no declarations, no promises, no plans.
Just one final kiss and a lingering look that said everything and nothing at the same time.
Then he’d met Leanne at the baggage claim and he drove her to the airport. He didn’t say a word to her. She didn’t, either, until he parked and unlocked the car, and she’d just sat there, staring hard at him.
“I wish I could hate you,” she’d said after a while. “That would be so much easier than—whatever the hell I’m feeling now.” He thought that was all, but after a moment she’d gone on. “I didn’t know I only had a part of your heart. I still don’t know how much you gave me. Fifty percent? Sixty?”
He didn’t answer. He honestly didn’t know, and even if he did, he was sure she wouldn’t want to hear it.
“You know what sucks about all this?” He didn’t. “Half of you, or sixty percent, or however much I had, was still way better than anybody else I’ve ever dated. But I deserve a hundred percent of somebody. And I wish to hell you would’ve figured out six months ago that you couldn’t give a hundred percent of yourself to me. You owed me that.”
