“Nothing to worry about but hatching rescue schemes that inevitably fail.”
“They never seemed to mind so much when they failed.”
“Of course not. It was always sunny and warm, and they didn’t have to wash their clothes or earn money.”
Kal turned his body toward hers. “Where do you think this is going?”
“Out and back?” she said lightly.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure. I’d like to think it’s going somewhere. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I kept thinking about the time we’d spent together, how it was to be with you the way we’ve been since Nepal—how much I enjoyed having you with me at the memorial service, and how lovely it was when you’d brought me coffee at Winston’s apartment, or when you asked Winston and Allie to clear out so I had room to breathe. How powerful and desirable I felt when we went dancing.”
She laced her fingers through his. She wasn’t explaining herself well. Being honest enough. “I thought about how it is when we’re alone together, how easy it is to laugh with you, how effortless things are in the bedroom…and I thought I was making a mistake. That there had to be a way we could make this work, and I simply wasn’t being thoughtful about it. I have a home in England, but I could get a place in New York, and maybe we’d be able to travel together or spend part of our time together that way. Or when I’m writing this book, whatever it ends up being, I could write where you are, or you could be where I am.”
Rosemary paused to take a breath. Kal was so quiet. She didn’t know what he was thinking. “I guess I’d like to believe it means something,” she said. “That the way I feel about you means something. But it’s hard to imagine what we’re meant to do next.”
“The way you feel about me?” he asked.
She didn’t know that she ought to say it, but she said it nonetheless. “Love.”
Love was the word she’d avoided saying, because it was one thing to know that she felt it and quite another to declare it to Kal on a boat in Wisconsin. Love implied some kind of obligation. Love created vulnerability.
Love was a mess.
“I love you,” she said. “For whatever that’s worth.”
Kal stepped behind her and put his arms around her. She leaned into him, remembering the first time she’d been this close to him on the evacuation helicopter, devastation below, Kal’s forehead pressed to hers.
It’s going to be okay, he’d told her.
Rosemary didn’t know if it would. Was her heart meant to feel like this, so heavy and burdened and dark?
“I love you, too,” he said. “For whatever that’s worth.”
The words didn’t make her heart any lighter, but her body responded with a hum of rightness in her skin where Kal touched her.
They loved each other. It was no small thing.
He sighed against her neck. “I’d take a desert island with you over”—he gestured at the water, at Wisconsin—“all that. What’s in front of us.”
“Is it so bad, what’s in front of us?”
She wanted him to tell her it wasn’t. She wanted to hear that they were lucky to have found each other and the future would work itself out.
“Well, tomorrow there’s Manitowoc and you figuring out how to make things right with your kid. After that, there’s picking up my mom and driving back to New York. Then figuring out when you’re inevitably going to have to leave and head to London, and how we’ll be together, if I’m going with you or you’re coming back, or we’re on Skype every night just to feel connected. It sounds good if you want to get a place in New York, but I’ve got my family. I can’t just step away from that—there’s my sisters to watch out for and the business, even if I can transition some of that to my brothers eventually. After that, it’s where are you going next, what mountain are you heading off to and whether I’m going to want to be there. Maybe I even end up doing another project in Nepal. I can’t manage something like that from England, you know? I’d have to be in-country.” Kal sighed. “It’s just…what would I have to do if we want to be together?”
If.
That was the part that was making Rosemary’s heart so heavy—that if. If it would be worth it to be this vulnerable at this stage of her life, to rearrange herself for love, to fit love into her plans and make room for it. If she wanted to. If Kal did.
It didn’t feel good, listening to him list off all the reasons it might be too complicated, too difficult.
“Can you imagine a way to figure it out and be happy?” she asked.
He kissed the side of her neck, his lips warm, his arms solid around her. “It’s not the best timing in the world. I’ve got a lot of personal shit to sort out.”
“Your work.”