“I'm starting to sound like a limey.” And then, inevitably, he looked down at her, and their eyes met. There was a world of sadness in hers, and a look of wonder in his. He had missed her more than he had ever wanted. “Hi, Cass,” he said quietly. “You're looking good. Getting ready for the tour, I guess.” The last newsreel he'd seen had talked about it, but it was five months old. They were a little behind the times at Hornchurch, for obvious reasons. He had done nothing but fly for the last year, every moment, every hour, every second. That and pull the bodies of dead women and children from burning buildings in London. It had been a tough year, but he felt as though he were being useful. It was better than sitting here, picking corn from his teeth and waiting for mail runs to Minnesota.
Oona offered him dessert, and he sat down cautiously. He could sense that he had interrupted something, or that they all felt awkward with him. Or maybe he just imagined it. He wasn't sure, but he chatted amiably with Billy and Pat, and Cassie said nothing. She went out to the kitchen to help her mother. But she had to come back eventually, while they all ate dessert. She didn't touch her apple pie, even though her mother knew she loved it. Pat knew what was wrong with her. And so did Billy. But Nick had no idea what had happened.
He lit a cigarette afterward, and stood up and stretched. He had lost a lot of weight too, and he looked young and firm and lean and very healthy.
“Want to go for a walk?” he asked her casually. But there was nothing relaxed about the question. He knew something was wrong, and he wanted to ask her himself. For a terrifying moment, he wondered if she'd fallen in love with Billy. Nick hadn't been home in almost a year, not since Chris had died. It was just an odd quirk of fate that he had come back when she was here. But as always, he was glad to see her. More than that, it filled his soul with light and air, and all he wanted to do was kiss her, but she was holding back purposely and he knew it. He figured she was probably mad at him. He had made a point of not writing to her all year. He didn't want to lead her on. He had meant what he said when he left her.
“Something wrong, Cass?” he asked finally, when they reached the stream that ran along the far edge of her father's property. She had said not a single word until then.
“Not really,” she said softly, trying not to look at him, but she had to. She couldn't keep her eyes from him. No matter what she had told herself that year about being ready to move on, about caring for Desmond and his needing her, she knew without a doubt she was still in love with Nick, whether he loved her or not. That was the way it was between them. But she would never have betrayed Desmond. She remembered her father's words when she'd told him she wanted to marry Desmond. And she was going to honor her marriage, if it killed her. But it might, she realized, as she looked up at Nick. Just seeing him made her heart ache.
“What is it, sweetheart?…
“I am,” she said sadly, feeling, despite all her explanations to herself, and the fact that he had told her to move on, that she had betrayed him. She could have waited. But she hadn't. “I got married three months ago… I would have told you… but you never wrote anyway… and I didn't know what to say…” Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, and her voice caught as she told him.
“Who?…” Billy had looked very uncomfortable with her, and they had come home together. Nick had always felt they were right for each other, and he was the right age. It was what he had wanted for her, but it hurt so damn much now thinking of it, it brought tears to his eyes. “Billy?” he asked in a choked voice, trying to sound noble, but this time she laughed through her tears, and took her hand away gently.
“Of course not.” She hesitated for a long time, looking away, and then, finally, back up at him. She had to tell him. “Desmond.”
There was an endless silence in the warm night air, and then a shout of disbelief, almost of pain, as he understood it. “Desmond Williams?” As though there were ten others with the same first name. He stared at her in outraged agony as she nodded. “For Cod's sake, Cassie… how could you be such a fool? I told you, didn't I? Why the hell do you think he married you?”
“Because he wanted to, Nick,” she said with a tone of annoyance. “He needs me. He loves me, in his own way.” Though she knew better than anyone that most of the time there wasn't room in his life for more than planes and papers.
