Nights in Rodanthe - Nicholas Sparks [50]
She flashed a brave smile before going on. “You can’t stay. We both knew you were leaving before the we part of us even began. Even though it’s hard, both of us also know it’s the right thing to do—that’s the way it is when you’re a parent. Sometimes there are sacrifices you have to make, and this is one of them.”
He nodded, his lips pressed together. He knew she was right but wished desperately that she wasn’t.
“Will you promise that you’ll wait for me?” he asked finally, his voice ragged.
“Of course. If I thought you were leaving forever, I’d be crying so hard, we’d have to eat breakfast in a rowboat.”
Despite everything he laughed, and Adrienne leaned into him. She kissed him before letting him hold her. He could feel the warmth of her body, smell the faintest trace of perfume. She felt so good in his arms. So perfect.
“I don’t know how or why it happened, but I think I was meant to come here,” he said. “To meet you. For so many years, I’ve been missing something in my life, but I didn’t know what it was. And now I do.”
She closed her eyes. “Me too,” she whispered.
He kissed her hair, then rested his cheek against her.
“Will you miss me?”
Adrienne forced herself to smile. “Every single minute.”
They had breakfast together. Adrienne wasn’t hungry, but she forced herself to eat, forced herself to smile now and then. Paul picked at his food, taking longer than usual to clean his plate, and when they were finished, they brought the dishes to the sink.
It was almost nine o’clock, and Paul led her past the front desk toward the door. He lifted one duffel bag at a time to sling over his shoulders; Adrienne held the leather pouch with his tickets and passport, which she handed to him.
“I guess this is it,” he said.
Adrienne pressed her lips together. Like hers, Paul’s eyes were red around the edges, and he kept them downcast, as if trying to hide them.
“You know how to reach me at the clinic. I don’t know how good the mail service is, but letters should reach me. Mark’s always gotten everything Martha has sent him.”
“Thanks.”
He shook the pouch. “I have your address, too, in here. I’ll write to you when I get there. And call, too, when I get the chance.”
“Okay.”
He reached out to touch her cheek, and she leaned into his hand. They both knew there wasn’t anything more to say.
She followed him out the door and down the steps, watching as he loaded the duffel bags into the backseat of the car. After closing the door, he stared at her a long time, unwilling to break the connection, wishing again that he didn’t have to go. Finally he moved toward her, kissed her on both cheeks and on her lips. He took her in his arms.
Adrienne squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn’t leaving forever, she told herself. They were meant for each other; they would have all the time in the world when he got back. They would grow old together. She’d lived this long without him already—what was one more year, right?
But it wasn’t that easy. She knew that if her children were older, she would join him in Ecuador. If his son didn’t need him, he could stay here, with her. Their lives were diverging because of responsibilities to others, and it suddenly seemed cruelly unfair to Adrienne. How could their chance at happiness come down to this?
Paul took a deep breath and finally moved away. He glanced to the side for a moment, then back at her, dabbing at his eyes.
She followed him around to the driver’s side and watched as he got in. With a weak smile, he put the key in the ignition and turned it, revving the engine to life. She stepped back from the open door and he closed it, then rolled down the window.
“One year,” he said, “and I’ll be back. You have my word on that.”
“One year,” she whispered in response.
He gave her a sad smile, then put the