Nights in Rodanthe - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,23

at all.”

“Seriously.”

“I am being serious. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Really?”

He raised two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“Were you ever a Scout?”

“No.”

She laughed but felt her cheeks redden anyway. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

When the chicken was ready, Adrienne put it into the oven and set the timer, then washed her hands again. Paul rinsed the potatoes and left them near the sink.

“What next?”

“There are tomatoes and cucumbers for the salad in the refrigerator.”

Paul moved around her, opened the door, and found them. Adrienne could smell his cologne lingering in the small space between them.

“What was it like growing up in Rocky Mount?” he asked.

Adrienne wasn’t quite sure what to say at first, but after a few minutes, she settled into the type of chitchat that was both familiar and comfortable. She shared stories of her father and mother, she mentioned the horse her father had bought for her when she was twelve, and she recalled the hours they’d spent taking care of it together and how it had taught her more about responsibility than anything she’d done to that point. Her college years were described with fondness, and she mentioned how she’d bumped into Jack at a fraternity party during her senior year. They’d dated for two years, and when she took her vows, she’d done so with the belief it would last forever. She’d trailed off then, shaking her head slightly, and turned the topic to her children, not wanting to dwell on the divorce.

As she spoke, Paul threw the salad together, topping it with the croutons she’d bought earlier, asking questions every so often, just enough to let her know he was interested in what she was saying. The animation on her face as she talked about her father and her children made him smile.

Dusk was settling in, and shadows began stretching across the room. Adrienne set the table as Paul added some more wine to both their glasses. When the meal was ready, they took their places at the table.

Over dinner, it was Paul who did most of the talking. Paul told her about his childhood on the farm, described the ordeals of medical school and the time he spent running cross-country, and spoke about some of his earlier visits to the Outer Banks. When he shared memories of his father, Adrienne considered telling him what was going on with hers, but at the last minute she held back. Jack and Martha were mentioned only in passing; so was Mark. For the most part, their conversation touched only on the surface of things, and for the time being, neither one of them was ready to go any deeper than that.

By the time they finished dinner, the wind had slowed to a breeze and the clouds balled together in the calm before the storm. Paul brought the dishes to the sink as Adrienne stored the leftovers in the refrigerator. The wine bottle was empty, the tide was coming in, and the first images of lightning began to register on the distant horizon, making the world outside flash, as if someone were taking photographs in hopes of remembering this night forever.

Eight

After helping her with the dishes, Paul nodded toward the back door.

“Would you like to join me for a stroll on the beach?” he asked. “It looks like a nice night.”

“Isn’t it getting cold?”

“I’m sure it is, but I have the feeling it’ll be the last chance we get for a couple of days.”

Adrienne glanced out the window. She should stay and finish cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, but that could wait, right?

“Sure,” she agreed, “just let me get a jacket.”

Adrienne’s room was located off the kitchen, in a room that Jean had added on a dozen years ago. It was larger than the other rooms in the house and had a bathroom that had been designed around a large Jacuzzi bathtub. Jean took baths regularly, and whenever Adrienne had called her when her spirits were low, it was always the remedy that Jean recommended to make herself feel better. “What you need is a long, hot, relaxing bath,” she’d say, oblivious to the fact that there were three kids in the house who monopolized the bathrooms and that Adrienne’s schedule didn’t allow for much free time.

From the closet, Adrienne retrieved her jacket, then grabbed her scarf. Wrapping it around her neck, she glanced at the clock and was amazed at how quickly the hours had seemed to pass. By the time she’d returned to the kitchen, Paul was waiting