face. “After that, I felt . . . conflicted. I was glad that you picked someone like him, because he’s a nice guy and you two have a lot in common, but then I was just . . . sad. We didn’t have that long to go. I would have been out of the army for almost two years now.”
She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“I am, too.” I tried to smile. “If you want my honest opinion, I think you should have waited for me.”
She laughed uncertainly, and I was surprised by the look of longing on her face. She reached for her glass of wine.
“I’ve been thinking about that, too. Where we would have been, where we’d be living, what we’d be doing in our lives. Especially lately. Last night after you left, that’s all I could think about. I know how terrible that makes me sound, but these past couple of years, I’ve been trying to convince myself that even if our love was real, it never would have lasted.” Her expression was forlorn. “You really would have married me, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat. And I still would if I could.”
The past suddenly seemed to loom over us, overwhelming in its intensity.
“It was real, wasn’t it?” Her voice had a tremor. “You and me?”
The gray light of dusk was reflected in her eyes as she waited for my answer. In the moments that elapsed, I felt the weight of Tim’s prognosis hanging over both of us. My racing thoughts were morbid and wrong, but they were there nonetheless. I hated myself for even thinking about life after Tim, willing the thought away.
Yet I couldn’t. I wanted to take Savannah in my arms, to hold her, to recapture everything we had lost in our years apart. Instinctively, I began to lean toward her.
Savannah knew what was coming but didn’t pull away. Not at first. As my lips neared hers, however, she turned quickly and the wine she was holding splashed onto both of us.
She jumped to her feet, setting her glass on the table and pulling her blouse away from her skin.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m going to change, though. I’ve got to get this soaking. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Okay,” I said.
I watched as she left the living room and went down the hall. She turned into the bedroom on the right, and when she was gone, I cursed. I shook my head at my own stupidity, then noticed the wine on my shirt. I stood and started down the hall, looking for the bathroom.
Turning a random doorknob, I came face-to-face with myself in the bathroom mirror. In the reflected background, I could see Savannah through the cracked door of the bedroom across the hall. She was topless with her back to me, and though I tried, I couldn’t turn away.
She must have sensed me staring at her, for she looked over her shoulder toward me. I thought she would suddenly close the door or cover herself, but she didn’t. Instead, she caught my eyes and held them, willing me to continue watching her. And then, slowly, she turned around.
We stood there facing each other through the reflection in the mirror, with only the narrow hallway separating us. Her lips were parted slightly, and she lifted her chin a bit; I knew that if I lived to be a thousand, I would never forget how exquisite she looked at that moment. I wanted to cross the hallway and go to her, knowing that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. But I stayed where I was, frozen by the thought that she would one day hate me for what we both so obviously wanted.
And Savannah, who knew me better than anyone else, dropped her eyes as if suddenly coming to the same understanding. She turned back around just as the front door crashed open and I heard a loud wail pierce the darkness.
Alan . . .
I turned and rushed to the living room; Alan had already vanished into the kitchen, and I could hear the cupboard doors being opened and slammed while he continued to wail, almost as if he were dying. I stopped, not knowing what to do. A moment later, Savannah rushed past me, tugging her shirt back into place.
“Alan! I’m coming!” she shouted, her voice frantic. “It’s going to be okay!”
Alan continued to wail, and the cupboards continued to slam shut.