Page 77 of Ten Years and Then…
That, at least, she could guarantee.
Daniel, a moment later
Did he dare say it?
Two years ago, she’d said it.
This moment was the same.
Or maybe it was even more. He couldn’t say more what—just more.
If he knew anything at all in this world, he knew she felt the same way he did right now.
“Nora, if this is the last time we’ll ever see each other, really the last time,” his voice caught and he blinked away a tear, “I want to—I want one more memory. One more perfect memory with you.”
She didn’t blink, didn’t turn away.
Instead, she leaned in, until her lips were only an inch away from his. “You’re asking me to make love with you,” she said softly. “One more time. One last time. Just so I’m clear.”
He nodded ever so slightly, leaned in that last inch and kissed her. Gently at first, barely brushing against her, and then more fully. She kissed him back without hesitation.
When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes, but there was also a smile—his smile, the one she only ever gave to him.
“Okay, that was pretty clear. So I guess I should be clear, too. I want that, too, Daniel. I want one more perfect memory. I want to make love with you. Right here and right now.”
And then neither of them needed any more words.
Nora, around midnight
They’d made their memory.
Afterwards, they lay together in her bed, not speaking, not really doing anything except holding each other.
“Daniel, I don’t want you to go. Not now. Not like I did the last time.”
He caressed her cheek and kissed her gently. “I wasn’t planning to. I know—I know this has to end. But not yet.”
Not yet.
They were both silent a while longer. It was so peaceful.
This was how it had always felt afterwards with him.
And during the act—it felt the same as it always had with him, too. As though no time at all had passed.
She reached over, put her hand on his chest. “The body always remembers,” she whispered.
Like—what did athletes call it? Muscle memory.
“And the heart never forgets.”
How could it?
He kissed her again, just for a moment. “Is that from a poem or something?”
She kissed him back. “No. It just came to me. It’s us. How we’ll always be, no matter where we go after tomorrow. Even if we never see each other again.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper again, her hand still on his heart. “I’ll always remember. You’ll never forget.”
