Chapter 67
Charles waited as the gates to the cottage opened the next morning. He yawned and grinned to himself. At least the late nights were enjoyable now, with Sarah for company. He drove through the gate and stopped the car. There were letters poking out of the letterbox. He pulled them free and shuffled through for anything interesting. The last envelope made him jolt. Even without opening it, he knew what it was.
A physical pain shot through his chest.
What would he tell Sarah?
***
That afternoon, Charles pulled his car into the first available visitor’s park at her apartment building. Then he waited. It didn’t take long.
Sarah grinned when she saw him and made her way to his car. He felt a wave of heat flood his groin when he spotted the nurse’s uniform she wore. He tamped the sensation down. What he had to tell her was far from sexy.
She reached his car, leaned in through the open driver’s side window and kissed him. “What are you doing here?”
He faked a smile so he wouldn’t worry her––there was time for that later. “I wanted to see you.”
Guilt heaved his stomach when he saw her face glow with happiness.
She stood upright again and asked, “How was your day?”
Terrible. Awful. Tragic. Any of those answers would have been suitable.
Instead, he settled on, “Fine. How was yours?”
Her smile tore a piece from his heart when she answered, “Better now you’re here.”
He felt himself wince.
“What is it?”
She’d seen it.
He caught the worried look on her face and sighed, “I have something to tell you.”
She crossed her arms against her chest, as if she was expecting bad news. Her instincts were sharp. In a tentative tone, she replied, “Yeah . . .”
“It’s not the sort of thing that should be discussed like this. Can you hop in?”
Her face wrinkled, but she nodded, “Sure,” and obeyed.
Neither spoke for a few seconds. He couldn’t look at her. Where did he start?
“Charles, you’re worrying me.”
He turned his face and pressed her hands in his, “I’m sorry, I just don’t know where to start.”
“Start at the part that has caused that look on your face. Is it your mom?”
“Sort of. I, uh, received a letter from her publisher today.”
“Okay?”
“It was the advance for her book.”
Her expression flattened as the words seemed to settle in her subconscious. She understood the meaning. He didn’t have to explain further. Thank God. Moments later she was on the verge of tears. She withdrew her gaze and stared out the window.
He gave her hands a soft squeeze, “Sarah?”
She shook her head, “I know we haven’t really spoken about it, but we both knew this day would come.”
What could he say? It was true. He had known when he’d first kissed her that this day would come. The day they would have to say goodbye––or start to. The worst part was he had no idea how long he was going to be gone. Now that he had the check from the publisher, he could make the arrangements for his mother’s admission to the facility in Germany.
“I’m sorry. I should never have started anything with you; it wasn’t fair.”
She shook her head, “No, it was worth it.”
“It was.”
Even though her back was to him, he reached over and dragged her into a hug. Soft heaves told him she was crying.
He whispered, “I’m sorry.”
She said nothing, but nuzzled closer to him.
In the silence, it struck him. They still had time. It would take at least a week to make final preparations.
“Do you think you can take the rest of the week off work?”
She sniffed, “Probably. Why?”
“It’ll take me at least that long to organize everything for Mom, and I want to be able to spend as much of my free time with you before I go. Will you come stay at the cottage with me?”
“Oh, Charles. I would love that.”
She turned so she was facing him and placed a tender kiss on his mouth.
***
Sarah took a deep breath as she dialed the familiar number. Her breath hitched when she heard his voice, “Well, hello. This is an unexpected pleasure.”
“Hi, Paul.” She paused. How would he react to what she had to ask? She tried to sound casual when she continued, “I’m calling to see if I can get the rest of the week off?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“It’s not something I want to talk about.”
“Because it involves him, doesn’t it?”
She glanced at Charles, “Look, I’m trying to keep this professional, please don’t make it personal.”
“Don’t make it personal? You’re calling me instead of HR and you’re calling me at home instead of at the office, but I’m making this personal.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just . . . he’s leaving.”
“What?”
“He’s leaving next week.”
“Leaving? What do you mean?”
“He’s moving to Germany with his mother.”
“Why?”
“Long story. Can I please get the time off?”
He sighed, “Yes, but you’ll have to take it as unpaid leave.”
She smiled, triumphant. “Thank you.”
“Yeah.”
When she hung up, Charles twined his fingers in hers, “There’s something else I want to discuss.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“What are we going to do about us once I leave?”
“You mean, whether we try long distance?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to give it a go.”
His face showed relief, “I’m so happy you said that. I want to try it as well.”