She gazes up at me, eyes glassy, lower lip trembling.
“I know,” I whisper, kissing her cheek softly. “I wish there was an easier way. But it has to be done. And then we can begin our lives together, properly begin them.”
“And you mean it?” she says. “You want it all – you want the garden? You want a future together?”
I lean down, holding my lips close to hers. “More than anything.”
She swallows. “Tomorrow, then.”
“I’ll invite him to my place. We’ll tell him there. He’ll understand, Becca bee.”
She laughs drily. “How can you say that?”
“Because he has to. I can’t let you go now.”