Watching the receptionist at work helped calm her nerves. Eve remembered her days as a typist, sitting at her desk for hours and hours until her back and shoulders ached. When she first arrived in America, she’d planned to work to support herself and Robbie. But after meeting the country-club wives, she quickly realized that the Barretts would never allow their daughter-in-law to work, especially as a typist.
At last, a door opened and an older gentleman came out. The receptionist pressed a button on her intercom. “Mr. Dubois, you have a visitor who would like to say hello. Mrs. Robert Barrett, from England.”
Louis was at the door a moment later, a broad smile on his face, his eyes alight with anticipation. Then he saw Eve and the blood drained from his face as if she’d slit one of his arteries. “Eve? What . . . ?”
She rose and hurried toward him to prevent him from saying more. “Hello, Louis. I was in town and thought I would stop by and say hello.” Her voice shook like an old woman’s. She thought she’d been prepared to see him, but he took her breath away in his dark tailored suit and tie, his ginger hair parted and neatly combed. His smile still gleamed like an advertisement for tooth powder. Eve felt as badly shaken as he looked. Guilt and longing waged war as she stared at him. She remembered their times together. His warmth and gentle strength. His love.
It had been a mistake to come.
Eve still loved him. And it was wrong to love him. She would never forgive herself for what she’d done. And God certainly couldn’t forgive her, either. That’s why she and her son were being punished. She fought to hold back her tears. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.
Louis recovered before she did. “What a surprise! Um . . . let’s talk in my office.” He held the door until she entered, then closed it behind them. For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Then he reached for her and pulled her close. How long had it been since she’d felt his embrace? Any man’s embrace? She was back in Louis’s arms again, but it wouldn’t last—couldn’t last. The battle between guilt and longing raged like the fires in the East End. Did he sense the battle, too? For Eve, guilt would always win.
He released her a moment later and walked behind his desk to sit down as if hiding behind a fortress. Thank goodness he hadn’t kissed her. She would have come undone if he had, just as she had the first time he’d kissed her on that terrible, wonderful night after the V-1 nearly killed her and Audrey. He gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Eve. I . . . um . . . I thought my receptionist said you were Audrey Barrett. I . . . You surprised me. I mean . . . this is a shock!”
“I’m sorry. I was afraid you would bolt out the back door if I gave my real name.” She clung to the back of the chair for support but didn’t sit in it, fearing her knees would never allow her to stand again if she did.
“No, of course I wouldn’t bolt. You’re the one who left that day. You said it was over between us.”
“It was the right decision. The only decision.”
He looked unconvinced. “It’s wonderful to see you, Eve.”
“You haven’t changed a bit.” It was a silly thing to say after nearly five years, but she couldn’t string her thoughts and words together into coherent sentences.
It was enough to see him one more time. Now she needed to leave. Asking for his help was a terrible idea. They were still drawn to each other with a power that neither of them had been able to control. She didn’t dare become entangled with Louis again. They would hurt too many people. Eve couldn’t tell him why she had come. She would have to find another way out of her dilemma.
“Did you come to America to visit Audrey?” Louis asked. “I heard she and her son moved here a few years ago. I’ve been meaning to get over there to see her, but . . . the truth is, I was afraid that seeing her would remind me of you.”
Eve nodded and struggled to shake off her confusion. She was Audrey. But Louis didn’t know that. She cleared her throat and tried to corral her thoughts. “Louis, I can’t stay more than a minute or two. I didn’t come here to interrupt your life. I just wanted to see you again and to say that . . . that I hope you and your wife are very happy. Your daughter must be getting big.”
“Karen’s eight years old already. And we have another daughter now.” He turned a framed picture around on his desk to show two ginger-haired girls holding a lamb. Eve barely noticed his daughters. The sight of the lamb stunned her—an unwelcome reminder of the Good Shepherd. The Shepherd who had abandoned her. Or was she the one at fault? Had she wandered away from Him? The photograph of Louis’s daughters made the answer painfully clear.