“This came for Kit,” I explained. “When he was recuperating after being released from the prison camp. I kept it from him. I never even told him a letter had arrived. Instead, I tucked it up in the attic and married him, telling myself it was for his own good.” I swallowed the dam of tears trying to block my airway. “They could have been together all this time, but I was so selfish. When I thought she was evil, it was so much easier to justify.” I looked down in my lap, unable to meet their eyes.
“Babs.” Drew placed a hand gently on my arm. “Stop beating yourself up. You did it out of love, not out of selfishness. Your heart is so big, and so giving, all you wanted was for Kit to be happy. Your big, generous heart. It’s what I love most about you.”
A valet approached discreetly and stood near Drew. “Your luggage is ready, sir. And I took the liberty of calling for a taxi.”
Drew stood, looking uncertain. “Remember at our picnic in Picardy, how we both said we needed to shake up our lives? I think this is it. I think you and I are meant to shake them up together. Come with me, Babs. Come with me to New York.”
I blinked at him, my head and heart warring with each other, battling it out in my throat so that I couldn’t speak.
Drew held up his hand. “Think about it. Let me settle my account, and I’ll be right back.”
I watched his departure until Precious pulled on my arm. “My mama used to say that to watch someone walk away means you’ll never see them again. And I have a good hunch that you both will find a way to be together.”
I turned around, but not because I believed her. “You probably think I’m a weak and spiteful woman. And I’m afraid that you might be right. Despite what he said, I know I don’t deserve him.”
“Don’t ever think that. Ever.” Her accent was amplified in that one word, the r disappearing completely. “Life is complicated, without any sort of road map. We are bound to have disappointments and setbacks, and with each one we make the choice to reinvent ourselves as a stronger version of who we are. You had a wonderful life with Kit. Your three wonderful children are a testament to that. And I know Daisy forgave you, so you don’t need to carry that burden any longer. Learning how to forgive ourselves is so much harder.” The last word seemed to catch in her throat, convincing me that she was on familiar terms with the struggle for self-forgiveness. She leaned closer so I could smell her perfume, recognizing it as Vol de Nuit. It was the same perfume Diana wore—made for brave and adventurous women. Of which I was neither. “Barbara, you are a formidable woman. Never forget that.”
I looked into her beautiful face, wondering again about the stories that lay behind her bright blue eyes. Something dark lurked there, I recognized it now. I remembered seeing it in Kit’s eyes after he’d returned from the war. I blinked away stupid tears I had no right to shed. “How did you get so wise?”
Precious smiled. “We all make decisions, Babs. The hardest part is learning to live with them.”
“So how does a formidable woman decide what to do next?” I asked, feeling utterly lost.
“Well, I’ve decided to return to London. The hardest part will be deciding which version of me will be returning.”
I didn’t have a chance to ask her what she meant as Drew had come back and stood by my chair. He reached for my hand and pulled me up, looking at me with earnest eyes. “Come with me to New York, Babs. We’ve put our ghosts to rest, haven’t we? Doesn’t that mean we’re supposed to get on with our lives now? To find our own happiness? Because, to be honest, I don’t know how I’m supposed to live the rest of my life without you.”
I will always love you. Always. Those words haunted me, accusing me. I was the worst sort of person, and Drew deserved so much better. “I can’t, Drew. I have responsibilities. I can’t just . . . leave. I agree my life needed to be shaken up, but I don’t believe moving to New York with you is what I’d intended. It’s been lovely, it has, but I think this is where we must part.” Each word was like a blow to my heart, a searing, sharp pain, and I wasn’t sure where the strength came from to say them without falling apart.
He continued to study me, as if looking for some weakness, some wavering on my part. But I couldn’t allow that. “This won’t be goodbye so I’m not going to say it.” He kissed me, the kind of kiss that in the movies is accompanied by sweeping music and the couple riding off into the sunset. But this wasn’t a movie.