Nights in Rodanthe - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,46

it. Tired of the way strangers used to avoid looking at her, or how kids would stare too long. So I finally gave in. I took all our savings, went to the bank and got a loan against my boat, and we went to see you. She was so excited that morning. I don’t think I’d ever seen her so happy about anything in her life, and just seeing her that way let me know I was doing the right thing. I told her that I’d be waiting for her and would come to see her just as soon as she woke up, and do you know what she said to me? What her last words to me were?”

Robert looked at Paul, making sure he had his attention.

“She said, ‘All my life, I’ve wanted to be pretty for you.’ And all I could think when she said it was that she always had been.”

Paul bowed his head, and though he tried to swallow, there was a catch in his throat.

“But you didn’t know any of those things about her. To you, she was just the lady who came in for an operation, or the lady who died, or the lady with the thing on her face, or the lady whose family was suing you. It wasn’t right for you not to know her story. She deserved more than that. She earned more than that by living the life she did.”

Robert Torrelson tapped the last of his ashes into the ashtray, then put out the cigarette.

“You were the last person she ever talked to, the last person she saw in her life. She was the best lady in the world, and you didn’t even know who you were seeing.” He paused, letting that sink in. “But now you do.”

With that, he stood from the couch, and a moment later he was gone.

After hearing what Robert Torrelson had said, Adrienne touched Paul’s face, dabbing away his tears.

“You okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m kind of numb right now.”

“That’s not surprising. It was a lot to absorb.”

“Yes,” Paul said, “it was.”

“Are you glad you came? And that he told you those things?”

“Yes and no. It was important to him that I know who she was, so I’m glad for that. But it makes me sad, too. They loved each other so much, and now she’s gone.”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

She offered a wistful smile. “It isn’t. The greater the love, the greater the tragedy when it’s over. Those two elements always go together.”

“Even for you and me?”

“For everyone,” she said. “The best we can hope for in life is that it doesn’t happen for a long, long time.”

He pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her lips, then put his arms around her, holding her close, letting her hold him, and for a long time, they stayed in that position.

But as they were making love later that evening, Adrienne’s words came back to her. It was their last night together in Rodanthe, their last night together for at least a year. And as much as she tried to fight them, she couldn’t stop the tears as they slipped silently down her cheeks.

Fifteen

Adrienne wasn’t in the bed when Paul woke on Tuesday morning. He’d seen her crying during the night but had said nothing, knowing that speaking would bring him to tears as well. But the denial left him ragged and unable to sleep for hours. Instead, he lay awake as she fell asleep in his arms, nuzzling against her, not wanting to let go, as if trying to make up for the year they wouldn’t be together.

She’d folded his clothes for him, the ones that had been in the dryer, and Paul pulled out what he needed for the day before packing the rest in his duffel bags. After he showered and dressed, he sat on the side of the bed, pen in hand, scribbling his thoughts on paper. Leaving the note in his room, he brought his things downstairs and left them near the front door. Adrienne was in the kitchen, standing over the stove and stirring a pan of scrambled eggs, a cup of coffee on the counter beside her. When she turned, he could see that her eyes were rimmed in red.

“Hi,” he ventured.

“Hi,” she said, turning away. She began stirring the eggs more quickly, keeping her eyes on the pan. “I figured you might want some breakfast before you go.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“I brought a Thermos from home when I