said.
She looked blankly at me.
âYou said something about not being sure,â I said, curious.
âOh.â A frown flickered across her face as she glanced away. âHe said heâs looking forward to seeing us. You know, on New Yearâs Eve. He was talking about announcing our engagement.â
âWouldnât that be something! Heâs a good mate, isnât he?â I pulled her into my arms, thinking of Willâs party again. How unexpectedly great life was. So much had changed this last year, I couldnât help but wonder what the next would bring.
Then I felt her sigh against me, as her eyes sought mine.
âIâm so happy, Noah. But sometimes . . . Donât you wish we could run away? From everything? Go somewhere itâs just us . . .â
Her voice was quietâand wistful. I felt a sudden flash of disquiet.
Gently I pulled away from her, looking into her eyes. âHey, if thatâs what you want, weâll do that. We can go away, get married on a beach somewhere. Anywhere. Just us.â
I meant every word. It could have been a small-town registry office for all I cared. I thought she was talking about our wedding, but she could equally have been talking about our future. And Iâd have moved to the other side of the world with her. All that really mattered was being together.
* * *
Over the next few days, we told our friends, then lightly sketched the outline of our wedding day, April at last conceding that a country wedding somewhere not too flash or ostentatious, now sheâd thought about it, would be amazing.
Then early on New Yearâs Eve, before breakfast, she went out, alone. âI just need to get one or two things,â she said, reaching up to kiss me, before pulling on her big coat, then winding a scarf around her neck.
âIâll come with you. I could do with a walk.â I looked around for my jacket, then hesitated, remembering Iâd promised to call my mother.
âIâll just make a quick call. Two minutesâokay?â
But she shook her head. âItâs okay. You stay here. I wonât be long.â
Though she didnât say, I guessed it was one of those times she wanted to be alone. After calling my mother for the briefest of conversations, I switched on the television, picking up the end of an old film, then watching the one that followed, only at the end realizing April still wasnât back.
I was starting to get anxious when I heard her key in the door. When she came in, instead of flushed from the cold, her face was pale.
âHey, are you okay?â
Still in her coat, she came and sat on the sofa, staring at the carpet, before pulling off her boots.
âNot really. I donât know. I was walking I think I got cold.â
I took her hands in mine. They were like ice. âYou should have called me.â
She shook her head. âItâs my fault. I should have come backâbut I went and sat in the park. I thought it would pass, but it hasnât. I just feel really sick, Noah. And I ache.â
âIt sounds like flu.â I watched as she slipped her coat off and curled up on the sofa. Then I fetched a throw from her bed and gently covered her.
She didnât protest, just closed her eyes. A few minutes later, from the rhythmic sound of her breathing I guessed she was sleeping. An hour later, she hadnât moved.
Much later, as it was getting dark, gently I woke her.
âYouâve been asleep for hours,â I told her softly. âI donât think weâre going to get to Willâs.â
She lifted her head. âOh, Noah . . .â Her head sank back onto the sofa. âIâm so sorry. I know how much you wanted to go tonight.â
âItâs okay. It doesnât matter. Itâs just a party.â Iâd been looking forward to it, but it wasnât important. There would always be other parties.
âYou should go. Iâll
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