‘Do you love him?’ asked Sam.
Rose shot him a glance. ‘No!’ She had come for the truth, but now found she was the one telling a lie.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I barely know him.’
‘It has been enough time for him to know that he is in love with you.’
‘It would be very convenient for you.’
‘Is that such a bad thing if that is what we both want?’
Rose wanted to scream at him for his thoughtlessness. She wasn’t an object that could be passed around.
‘You make it sound so simple.’ Angry, Rose turned to walk away and was surprised when Sam caught her arm.
‘Rose, try to remain calm. Don’t do anything hasty.’
Rose twisted her arm away. ‘You’re not concerned for me. You’re just afraid I will report you.’
‘That’s not true.’
Despite what he was saying, she knew that it was only natural to be afraid. Many spurned fiancées would seek revenge in that way, but she was not one of them. It just showed how little they’d really known each other before he went away.
‘I won’t report you, Sam.’
Sam’s shoulders lowered in relief. ‘Nicky said you wouldn’t. Thank you.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry my reappearance has upset you. Nicky asked me to see you. He thought you should know the truth. He helped me so I felt duty-bound to repay him.’
For the first time, Rose felt the outsider. Nicholas and Sam had spent more time in each other’s company than she had ever done with Sam. They had stood side by side as they faced death. They had risked their lives for one another. Their bond and history together shone a spotlight on her relationship with Sam and found it wanting. She didn’t really know this man standing before her. He was familiar, yet a stranger.
‘I’m sorry you were so unwell, Sam. I wish I could be more understanding, but this news has been such a shock. I still find it hard to understand why you didn’t tell me you had not died. The news of your death killed a part of me too. It ended my dreams for the future. If I’d known you were alive I could have stopped grieving for you long ago.’
‘I’m sorry. It felt like you were from my past, not part of the present. We had spent more time apart than together. You were part of a different world.’
Sam was voicing what she was only just discovering, and she did not feel ready to face it just yet.
‘I would have been part of your world if you had reached out to me. I would have helped you get well again.’ She took a deep breath. Her feelings of betrayal and being side-lined would not change anything, nor would her offer of help that was no longer needed. She was surprised to discover that she wasn’t sure she wanted anything to change. She lifted her chin. ‘You’re right, that was in the past. Things are very different today.’ They fell silent as they stared at one another, connected by a shared past, which, in comparison to a lifetime, now seemed fleeting. She tried to remember how they had said their first goodbye. The details were hazy and would grow more faded with each passing day.
Rose allowed herself a sigh. ‘I wish you well, Sam. I want you to be happy.’
‘Is this the moment we say goodbye?’
‘I think it is.’
‘I never meant to hurt you, Rose.’ Sam opened his arms, with a sheepish look on his face. He had used that tactic before when he was trying to cajole or charm his way out of some transgression. She remembered that. She couldn’t help a slight smile at the boyish gesture and didn’t protest when he stepped forward to hug her. She thought she would want to push him away, but the familiar warmth of his body quickly drained her fighting spirit. She rested her head against his shoulder as she watched his chest rise and fall beneath her palm. The simple movement evoked memories of writing a poem long ago.
The rise and fall of your chest as the evening draws nigh.
She had once longed to feel his chest rise and fall beneath her hand again. Now it was happening, she felt nothing. The man she had loved had died long ago on the battlefields of France and it was only now that she had come to accept it.
* * *
Rose did not look back at Sam as she made the return journey to the car. They had said their goodbyes; a wave from the distance would have somehow cheapened the gravity of the situation as they both knew they would not see each other again. He was Harry Willis now, with a wife in all ways but in law. Each step that took her further from him somehow strengthened her resolve that things had to change. She had wasted her life long enough grieving for the dead. It was time she began to live.
She saw Nicholas in the distance waiting for her, his lithe body leaning against the car with his ankles crossed. He was a picture of vitality that made her heart leap at the very sight of him, yet she knew, deep down inside, she needed time on her own. He appeared to brace himself as she approached, watching her carefully as he opened the car door for her. Rose got in and stared stoically ahead.
‘Are you alright?’ he asked.
