The hotel doorman was running over to investigate.
A figure was slumped over the driving wheel, his weight on the horn,
which let out an incessant noise.
She covered her ears and was just about to detour by when she realized
the yellow car, a Chevrolet, looked awfully familiar. In fact it
looked like the same car Reece Webster was driving when he'd followed
her limo up her driveway.
She stopped, watching, while the doorman, assisted by two other people,
opened the door and extracted the driver.
"He's dead," she heard one of them say. "Looks like he bled to
death."
She edged closer for a better look as they laid the figure on the
ground. No mistaking those cowboy boots. Reece Webster was certainly
dead.
"Thank you, God," she whispered, and quietly made her way back to her
car.
didn't know you could fly a plane."
He put it on autopilot and raised his arms. "Look, Ma, no hands!"
"Very funny," she said sternly.
"Hey-" He caught her with a green-eyed stare. "Have I told you lately
that I love you?"
"Nick. .
"Yeah?"
"Please stop," she begged.
"What? Stop loving you? I'm sorry, but I can't seem to do that."
"How's that?"
She lowered her eyes. "There's things I've never told you "What
things?" he asked.
She turned away from him, staring out the window at the clear blue sky,
determined to be truthful so there could finally be an end to this.
"Nick," she said hesitantly, "when you left Bosewell, I was . . I was
pregnant with our baby."
"Oh Jesus, Lauren, I had no idea-" "I know you didn't. I went to the
trailer park to tell you-I guess it was the day after you left. Your
father was there - "Yes?" He had a feeling he wasn't going to like
what he was about to hear.
"He . . . he tried to attack me," she continued. "And I ... I stabbed
him. Then the tornado came and I don't remember anything else. When I
woke up I was on the grass and the trailer was gone. The town was in
chaos-my parents were both victims. I was sent to live in Philadelphia
with relatives. Shortly after I arrived they made me have an
abortion." Her eyes filled with tears. "Nick-they made me kill our
child."
It was the first time she'd spoken of any of this and the relief was
overwhelming. Suddenly it wasn't her secret anymore-the burden was not
hers alone.
"I didn't know," he said. "If I'd known I'd never have left. We would
have worked it out somehow. Jesus, Lauren, I don't know what to say
except that I love you. I always have and I always will. I'm sorry
everything you had to go through without me."
All these years she'd expected him to be angry, to blame her for what
had happened. Now he was the one that was sorry.
"I murdered our baby, Nick," she cried out, in case he hadn't
understood.
"Come here, sweetheart," he said, taking her in his arms. "You had no
choice. You were a kid-we both were. You did what you had to do-so
stop blaming yourselfœ" It felt so good in his arms. She was at
peace.
It was as if she belonged there.
"As for Primo," he said, holding her tight, "you didn't kill him-he
died of head injuries. It's public record."
"It is?"
"Yup. I had it checked out."
"All these years I thought I'd killed him."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"Because . .
"Because what?"
"I don't know."
"You're crazy. And I love you."
"Nick," she said hesitantly, feeling like a kid again.
"Yes?"
"I love you, too."
He grinned. "So what are we going to do about it?"
"We are?"
"Yes," she said, filled with a sudden strength and determination.
"Forever."
"Fasten your seatbelt," he said, relinquishing his hold and
concentrating on piloting the plane. "We're preparing to land."
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Canada."
"Canada?"
"I figured I had to take you somewhere remote, where nobody can bother
us-not unless we want them to. There's this little log cabin-" "How
did you arrange it? And how did you know I'd come with you?"
"Hey-it's my birthday."
"Happy birthday, Nick," she said softly.
"Thank you, Lauren."
They stared into each other's eyes and smiled.
The dream was finally coming true.
They were together and they both knew without a doubt that this time
nothing would ever split them apart again.
the end