Echoes Page 0,16

to the idea. And we have a war to fight first. If we decide to do this, we have a long road ahead of us. This is only the beginning, but I want you to know that I love you. I've never said that to anyone before.” There were tears in her eyes as she nodded and looked at him. They sat next to each other on the beach, holding hands, and her voice was only a whisper when she spoke.

“I love you, too.” He turned and smiled at her, and without saying a word, he leaned over and kissed her and held her for a long time. They didn't do anything they shouldn't, he was just happy to be with her.

“I wanted you to know that I love you, in case something happens to me when I go back. I want you to know that this man loves you, and will love you till the day he dies.” It was a huge statement to make after knowing her for two days. But he meant it. She felt that way, too.

“That better not be for a very long time,” she said solemnly, referring to “loving her till the day he died.”

“It won't be,” he said. They sat there for an hour, and he kissed her again before they went back. He didn't want to do anything to jeopardize or hurt her. All he wanted to do was protect and love her, but the very fact that they cared about each other put them both in a difficult spot. Theirs was not going to be an easy path, but it seemed like their destiny to each of them. They both felt that, as they walked back toward the hotel hand in hand.

They worked out a plan to see each other later that night. She said that Brigitte slept like a rock and wouldn't hear her leave. They were going to meet in the garden at midnight, just to talk. It was a risky prospect if her mother found out about it, but Beata said that if she or Brigitte were still up, she wouldn't come. He urged her to be cautious and wise, although what they were doing was anything but. By some miracle, she managed to get out, and every night after that. For three weeks they took walks, had tea together, and met late at night. All they did was kiss and talk. And by the time he left Geneva, shortly before she did, they were deeply in love, and had vowed to spend the rest of their lives together, some way, somehow. They were going to speak to their families after the war, whenever that was. In the meantime he would write to her. He had a cousin in Geneva and would mail letters to him, and he would send them on to Beata in Cologne. He had worked it all out. Otherwise it would have been impossible to get letters into Germany from France.

Their last night together was torture, and he held her in his arms for hours. It was nearly dawn when she went back, with tears running down her face, but she knew that if the fates conspired to help them, they would be together one day. He was due to get a leave at Christmas, but he had to go home to Dordogne. There was no way he could come to Germany to see her, as long as the war was on. Her family had no plans to come to Switzerland again. They would have to wait. But there was no doubt in her mind or his that they would. What they had found came once in a life time and was worth waiting for. They were both absolutely sure of their feelings for each other.

“Don't forget how much I love you,” he whispered, when she left him in the garden. “I'll be thinking of you every moment till I see you again.”

“I love you,” she whispered between sobs, and then she went back and slipped into her bed in the room she shared with Brigitte. Two hours later, still awake, she saw a letter slide under her door. She got up to get it, and when she carefully opened the door, he was already gone. The note told her what she knew already, how much he loved her, and that she would be his one day. She folded it carefully and put it in the drawer where she kept her gloves. She didn't