He understood Abby’s reticence about committing to some sort of future; part of him felt it too, and yet he still wanted to try. Try hard. For once in his life he didn’t want to back away, hands in the air, deciding it was all just a little too intense, a bit too much for him. For once he wanted to give a relationship everything he had, even if it hurt. Even if it didn’t work out, although he hoped it would.
“You’re going to miss your plane,” Abby said when he finally let her go, his head spinning, and, he suspected, hers too.
“Would that be a terrible thing?”
“Yes, it would, because Maggie is waiting for you.” She gave him an encouraging smile, the firm look of a teacher with a wayward pupil, although her eyes were dancing.
“Not at the airport. I could call her and tell her I’d got held up.”
“You don’t want to do that, Simon.” Her voice was gentle, her eyes full of warmth.
“No, I don’t.” He smiled and stepped back, even though he didn’t want to. It really was time to go.
As he climbed in the car, he marveled again at how much had changed in such a short time. It was as if he was seeing the entire world through a different lens, and every few seconds he’d startle himself with the unexpected perspective. How strange, he thought, not for the first time, that so much has changed, and all because of people who will never know how they’ve affected me. Helped me. Helped us.
One last wave, and then he was starting the car, a cloud of dust kicking up as he drove down the dirt track, Abby waving in his rearview mirror. He kept her in his vision as long as he could, wanting to imprint her there, determined to believe he would see her again, even though they’d made no promises.
Sometimes you just had to trust. To accept, to forgive, and finally, to hope.
Holding onto his smile, Simon turned onto the main road that headed south to Chicago.
ABBY
The house was dim and quiet as Abby went back inside, breathing in the peaceful stillness. Sorrow tugged at her even as a smile came to her lips. There really was so much to be thankful for.
She walked slowly back to the kitchen, savoring all the familiar sights—the grandfather clock, the photo of her grandparents, the dried roses in a vase that had been there since she was a child. Home.
As she stood in the doorway, for a second she could see her mother standing at the stove, humming under her breath, giving her one of her quick, distracted smiles. Everything okay, sweetheart?
Yes, Abby thought. Yes, actually, Mom, everything is okay.
With a smile still on her lips, she took out her phone and typed in a search for airline tickets to London.
Epilogue
He stands on the cracked pavement in front of the block of flats—dilapidated, nondescript, but he knows the building so well. He has been dreaming of being here, of mounting these weathered steps, for the last year and a half.
For the last half-hour, he has simply been standing there in the cold, braving the icy drizzle of a wet January afternoon, unsure if he can bring himself to ring the bell. If he can face her—and, more importantly, if she can face him.
He has been back in London for nearly a week, finally a free man. He has filed all his reports, handed in his uniform, been given his suit of civilian clothes and a small grant to see him through, for a little while at least.
He saw Tom Reese as well, at the army headquarters, both of them being demobbed. They did an almost comical double take at the sight of one another, and then gave surprised and sheepish smiles. Just as he’d thought all those months ago, they were seeing the war out together.
Tom had loitered while he’d filled out his forms, and then, to his surprise, he’d asked him to go for a drink. He’d agreed, and they’d spent fifteen minutes somberly sipping watery pints before Tom had finally spoken.
“Sophie broke it off, because of what I did. I told her, in the end. I couldn’t bear her not knowing, not if we were going to marry.”
“I’m sorry.” The words were inadequate, but he realized he meant them. He’d known Tom had loved her.
“She was so angry. And disappointed too, which was worse. She threw my ring back at my face and shouted at me that she thought I was a better man than that.” Tom’s voice had choked. “I thought I was, too.”
“It was only one moment,” he said quietly. “Surely we are all allowed those.”
Tom shook his head. “It was a moment that cost men their lives. I can’t forgive myself that. Abruzzo? The sergeant next to you? He took a bullet in his arm for me at the Waal.” His face twisted. “And I as good as killed him.”
“No,” Matthew said quietly. “The Nazis killed him.”
“But they might not have, if I’d kept my position.” Tom released a shuddering breath. “It’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. I know that. At least I wasn’t court-martialed, thanks to you.” He gazed down, unseeing, at his pint. “I gave Sophie my Purple Heart. I want her to have something to remember me by, and maybe—maybe to make her see I wasn’t always a coward.”