Every Breath Page 16

  “I’m sorry I’m so quiet,” she offered, forcing a smile. “I’m not very good company this morning.”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “You had a late night.”

  “It’s not that,” she said. “It’s…” She trailed off, and Tru felt a touch of spray from the waves. It left him damp and chilled.

  She cleared her throat. “I want you to know I had no idea what was going to happen.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  Her voice became softer, her fingers tightening in his grip. “Josh showed up at the wedding.”

  Tru felt his stomach tighten but said nothing. Hope went on.

  “After the phone call the other night, he booked a flight to Wilmington. I guess he hadn’t liked the way I sounded. He arrived right before the ceremony…He just showed up and could tell I wasn’t happy about it.” She took a few steps, watching the sand in front of her. “It wasn’t too hard to avoid him at first. After the ceremony, the bridal party had to sit for a lot of photographs, and I was seated with Ellen at the main table. I stuck with my girlfriends for most of the evening, but toward the end of the reception, I went outside to cool off, and he found me.” She drew a long breath, as if summoning the words she needed. “He apologized, said he wanted to talk, and…”

  As she spoke, Tru felt everything beginning to slip away. “And?” he prompted gently.

  She stopped walking and turned to face him. “When he showed up, all I could think about was this week and how much it’s meant to me. Last week, I didn’t even know you existed, so part of me can’t help but wonder whether I’m crazy. Because I know that I love you.”

  Tru swallowed, noting that her eyes were bright with tears.

  “Even now, when I’m here with you, all I can think is how right this feels. And I don’t want to leave you.”

  “Then stay with me,” he pleaded. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “It’s not that simple, Tru. I love Josh, too. I know that must be painful for you to hear, and the truth is that I don’t feel the same way about him that I do for you.” Her eyes beseeched him. “You’re both so different…” She seemed to be grasping for something out of her reach. “I feel like I’m at war with myself—like two different people, who want completely different things. But…”

  When she appeared unable to continue, Tru gripped her arms.

  “I can’t imagine a life without you, Hope, and I don’t want one. I want you, and only you, forever. Could you really give up what we have without regret?”

  She stood frozen, her face a mask of anguish. “No. I know there’s part of me that will regret it forever.”

  He stared at her, trying to read her, already knowing what she was trying to tell him. “You’re not going to tell him about us, are you?”

  “I don’t want to hurt him…”

  “And yet you’re willing to keep secrets from him?”

  He regretted the words as soon as they came out. “That’s not fair,” she cried, shaking off his touch. “Do you think I want to be in this position? I didn’t come here to make my life even more complicated than it already was. I didn’t come here because I wanted to fall in love with another man. But no matter what I decide, someone is going to be hurt, and I never, ever wanted that.”

  “You’re right,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have said it. It wasn’t fair, and I apologize.”

  Her shoulders slumped, her anger slowly giving way to confusion again. “Josh seemed different this time. Scared. Serious…” she mused, almost to herself. “I just don’t know…”

  It was now or never, Tru suddenly realized, and he reached for her hand again. “I wanted to talk to you earlier about this, but last night when I couldn’t sleep, I did a lot of thinking. About you and me. About us. And maybe you’re not quite ready to hear it, but…” He swallowed, his eyes on hers. “I want you to come with me to Zimbabwe. I know it’s asking a lot, but you could meet Andrew and we could make a life there. If you don’t like that I’m in the bush so much, I can find something else to do.”

  Hope blinked without speaking, trying to absorb what he was saying. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again, even as she released his hand. She turned, facing the ocean, before finally shaking her head.

  “I don’t want you to change who you are for me,” Hope insisted. “Guiding is important to you—”

  “You’re more important,” he said, hearing the desperation in his voice. Feeling the future, all his hopes, begin to recede. “I love you. Don’t you love me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then before you say no, can you at least think about it?”

  “I have,” she said, so quietly he almost couldn’t make out her voice over the sound of the surf. “Yesterday, when I was coming back from the wedding, I thought about exactly that. Just…running off to Africa with you. Leaving, without a second thought. And part of me longed to do that. I imagined explaining the situation to my parents, sure that they’d give me their blessing. But…”

  She raised her eyes to his, her expression drawn in anguish. “How can I leave my dad, knowing he has only a few years left? I’ll need to spend these last years with him, for me as much as him. Because I know I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t. And my mom is going to need me, even if she thinks that she won’t.”

  “I could fly you back home as often as you want. Once a month if that’s what you need. Or even more. Money’s not an issue.”

  “Tru…”

  He felt a surge of panic. “What if I move here?” he offered. “To North Carolina?”

  “What about Andrew?”

  “I’d fly back every month. I’ll see him more than I do now. Whatever you need from me, I’ll do it.”

  She stared at him in agony, her hand clenched in his.

  “But what if you can’t?” she asked. The words were almost a whisper. “What if there’s something that I need that you can never give me?”

  At her words, he flinched as if he had been slapped. All at once, he understood what she’d been trying so hard not to tell him. That to be with him meant closing the door to having children of her own. Hadn’t she told him about her lifelong dream? Her treasured image of holding the baby she had just given birth to, of creating a human life with the man she treasured? More than anything, she wanted to be a mother—she wanted to give birth to a child—and it was the one thing he could not give her. In her face, the silent plea for forgiveness was as pronounced as her pain.

  He turned away, unable to face her. He’d always believed that anything was possible when it came to love, that any obstacle could be overcome. Wasn’t that a truth that nearly everyone took for granted? As he struggled with the implacability of what Hope had just said, she hugged her arms to her body.

  “It makes me hate myself,” she cried, her voice cracking. “That there’s this part of me that needs to have a baby. I wish I could imagine a life without a child, but I can’t. I know it would be possible to adopt, and now there’s even amazing medical technology, but…” She shook her head and let out a long breath. “It just wouldn’t be the same. I hate that this is true for me, but it is.”

  For a long time neither of them spoke, both of them staring at the waves. Finally, Hope said in a ragged voice, “I never want to think to myself that I gave up my dream for you. I never want to have a reason to resent you…the thought terrifies me.” She shook her head. “I know how selfish I sound, how much I’m hurting you. But please don’t ask me to go with you, because I will.”

  He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. “You’re not selfish,” he said.

  “But you despise me.”

  “Never.”

  He drew her into his arms, pulling her close. “I’ll always love you. There’s nothing you can ever do or say that will take that away.”

  Hope shook her head, trying and failing to keep the tears from spilling out.

  “There’s something else
,” she said, her voice thick as she began to cry in earnest. “Something I haven’t told you.”

  Inwardly, he braced himself. Somehow he knew what she was going to say.

  “Josh asked me to marry him last night,” Hope said. “He told me he’s ready to start a family.”

  Tru said nothing. Instead, feeling dizzy, he slumped in her arms, as if his limbs had turned to lead. Though he wanted to console her, he felt a numbness spreading through him.

  “I’m sorry, Tru,” she said. “I didn’t know how to tell you last night. But I haven’t given him an answer yet. I want you to know that. And I want you to understand that I had no idea he was going to ask me.”

  He swallowed, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “Does it really matter that you didn’t expect him to ask?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Right now, I don’t feel like I understand anything. All I know is that I never wanted it to end like this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  A physical ache seemed to flow through him, beginning in his chest and radiating outward until even his fingertips throbbed.

  “I can’t force you to stay with me,” he whispered. “As much as I want to, I can’t. Nor will I try, even if it means that I’ll never see you again. But I would like to ask something of you.”

  “Anything,” she whispered.

  He swallowed. “Will you try to remember me?”

  She made a strangled noise, and he knew she couldn’t speak. Instead, she pressed her lips closed and nodded. Tru pulled her closer, feeling her collapse into him, as if her legs would no longer support her. When she began to sob, Tru felt himself crumbling. Beyond them, the waves marched on, indifferent to the world slowing to a stop between them.

  He wanted her and only her, forever. But that wasn’t possible. Not anymore, for despite the love they felt for each other, Tru already knew what Hope’s answer to Josh was going to be.

  * * *

  Back at the cottage, Hope cleared any items from the refrigerator that might spoil and put them in a garbage bag. When she headed to the shower, Tru brought the bag to the bins outside. His head was spinning and by the time he returned to the kitchen, he heard the shower running in the bathroom. He rummaged through drawers until he located paper and a pen. Ravaged, he tried to order his feelings by putting words on the page. There was so much he wanted to say.

  When he was finished, he returned to his father’s house and retrieved two drawings. He put those, along with the letter, into the glove compartment of her car, knowing that by the time she discovered them, their time together would already be in the past.

  When Hope finally emerged, she was carrying her suitcase. Dressed in jeans, a white blouse, and the sandals she’d picked up a few days earlier, she was heartbreakingly beautiful. He was sitting at the table again, and after turning out all the lights, Hope went to sit on his lap. She put her arms around him, and for a long time they simply held each other. When she pulled back, her expression was subdued.

  “I should probably get going,” she finally said.

  “I know,” he whispered.

  She got up, and after putting Scottie on a leash, she moved slowly to the door.

  It was time. Tru picked up her suitcase, along with the box of mementos she’d collected earlier in the week. He followed her out the front door, pausing beside her as she locked the door and inhaling the wildflower scent of the shampoo she used.

  He loaded her things into the trunk while she put Scottie in the back seat. After closing the doors, she approached him slowly. He held her again, neither of them able to speak. When finally she pulled back, he tried a smile, even though everything was breaking inside.

  “If you ever plan on taking a safari, make sure you let me know. I can tell you which lodges you should visit. It doesn’t have to be in Zimbabwe. I have contacts all over the region. You can always reach me through the lodge at Hwange.”

  “All right,” she said in an unsteady voice.

  “And if you just want to talk or see me, I’ll make that happen. Airlines make the world a much smaller place. If you need me, I’ll come. All right?”

  She nodded, unable to meet his eyes as she adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. He wanted to beg her to come with him; he wanted to tell her that a love like theirs would never be replicated. He could feel the words forming, but they stayed inside him.

  He kissed her, softly, gently, one last time, then opened the door for her. When she was behind the wheel, he pushed the door shut, his hopes and dreams shattering at the sound. He heard the engine fire up and saw her roll down the window.

  She reached out, taking his hand in hers.

  “I’ll never forget you,” she said. And then all at once, she let go. She put the car in reverse and began to back out of the driveway. Tru followed as if in a trance.

  A ray of sunlight broke from the clouds, illuminating her car like a spotlight as it finally started rolling forward. Away from him. She didn’t glance in his direction. He continued to follow, drawn into the street.

  By then, her car was already growing smaller in the distance. It was fifty yards away, then even more, her image no longer visible through the rear window, but Tru continued to watch it. He felt hollowed out, a hull.

  The brake lights flashed once, and then suddenly steadied, glowing red. The car came to a halt, and he saw the driver’s-side door open. Hope stepped out and turned to face him. She seemed so far away and when she blew him a final, tender kiss, he couldn’t bring himself to return the gesture. She waited for a moment, then got back in the car, the door closing behind her. The car started rolling forward again.

  “Come back to me,” he whispered, watching as she reached the corner that led to the main road off the island.

  But she couldn’t hear him. Ahead of him, the car slowed but didn’t stop. No longer able to watch, Tru bent over double, his hands on his knees. Beneath him, the asphalt bore the inkblot stain of his tears.

  When he looked up again, the car had vanished completely and the road was deserted.

  Aftermath

  Hope would never remember the drive back to Raleigh. Nor would she remember much about her lunch with Josh that Sunday afternoon. He had called her numerous times since the wedding, leaving messages at her apartment, begging her to meet him. Reluctantly, she agreed to meet him at a local café, but while Josh was talking to her across the table, all she could think about was the way Tru had stood in the road, watching her go. Abruptly, she told Josh that she needed a few days to think about things and left the restaurant before the food even arrived, feeling his stunned gaze on her as she hurried out.

  He appeared at her apartment a few hours later and they spoke on her doorstep. He apologized again, Hope managing to mask her turmoil. After agreeing to meet with him on Thursday, she closed the door and leaned against it, utterly spent. She lay on the sofa in her living room, intending to doze for a short while, but somehow slept until the following morning. Her first thought upon waking was that Tru was already on his way back to Zimbabwe, the gulf between them increasing by the minute.

  It was all she could do to function at work. She moved on autopilot, and with the exception of a teenage girl who’d been in a horrific car accident, she remembered none of the patients. If the other nurses noticed how detached she seemed to be, they didn’t say anything.

  On Wednesday, she planned to visit her parents after work. Her mom had left a message on her answering machine a couple of days earlier saying that she’d be making stew, and Hope decided to pick up a blueberry pie from a local bakery on her way over. The only problem was that the bakery only accepted cash, and in her daze of the last few days, she’d forgotten to go to the bank. Remembering that she kept some money in the glove compartment for emergencies, she returned to the car and opened it up. As she rummaged for the cash, she knocked some of the contents to the floor, and it was only while cleaning up that she recognized the drawing of herself that Tru had completed.

  Seeing
it in the car took her breath away. She knew he must have placed it in her glove compartment the morning she’d left. She stared at the image, her hands beginning to tremble, before remembering that she still had to pay for the pie. She carefully set the drawing on the passenger seat, then hurried back inside to complete her purchase.

  Back in the car, she didn’t start the ignition. Instead, she reached for the drawing again. Examining the image of herself, she recognized a woman hopelessly in love with the man who’d drawn her, and she felt an intense longing to be held by him just one more time. She wanted to breathe in the scent of him, feel the coarse scratch of his stubble, stare into the face of the man who intuitively understood her in a way that no one ever had before. To be with the man who’d stolen her heart.

  Lowering it to her lap, she noticed another sheet of drawing paper in the open glove compartment. It was carefully folded; on top of it lay an envelope with her name on it. She picked them up with shaking hands.

  Unfolding the drawing first, she saw the two of them standing on the beach, gazing at each other in profile. The sight left her breathless, and she was only vaguely aware that a car had pulled into the spot next to her, the radio blaring. She stared at the image of Tru, flooded with longing. She forced herself to put it aside.

  The envelope felt heavy in her hands. She didn’t want to open it, not here. She should wait until later, when she was back at her place, when she was alone.

  But the letter was calling to her, and lifting the seal, she pulled it out and began to read.

  Dear Hope,

  I’m not sure whether you want to read this, but in my confusion, I am grasping at straws. Along with this letter, you’ll find two drawings. Maybe you’ve already seen them. You might recognize the first one. I worked on the second one while you were at the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. I have a feeling that I’ll complete more drawings of you when I get home, but I’d like to keep those, if it’s all right with you. If not, please let me know. I can either send them to you, or dispose of them, and will not attempt another one. I hope that you believe that I am, and will always be, someone that you can trust.