Chapter 8

She still hadn't gotten her kiss.

It was noon. Her mother had been awake, though groggy, when they went
to see her this morning, and that had frightened Billy. Carolyn had
calmed him down as best she could, then talked him into going to school
for the afternoon-with the lure of the annual class Halloween party
that afternoon as the major inducement--because she didn't want him to
be frightened any more than he already was by the sight of her mother
in this hospital.

She'd spoken with her mother's doctor, who remained optimistic that
Grace McKay's condition had to do with stress, rather than a physical
problem with her heart. She'd welcomed her aunt Ellen, who'd arrived
unexpectedly around midday, because she was worried about both Grace
and Carolyn herself. She'd run into some old friends from high school
and friends of her mother's--putting them off as best she could when
they asked why she was in town, why Drew Delaney was in town, and
exactly what his car had been doing outside her mother's house all
night long.

She'd barely seen Drew. He was already showered and dressed when she'd
awoken. And he'd been on the phone all morning, no doubt arranging for
someone to bring those clothes here for her to identify. Carolyn put
Drew in touch with Hope House's computer expert, and the two of them
had started a search through the data banks for any other cases that
might be linked to Annie's. She'd left Drew at the house, without a
word passing between them about what had happened last night before
they went to their separate beds2

With her life in such total chaos, Carolyn couldn't understand where
she found the time to think of anything as trivial as a kiss she'd
never received. But she did. She sat in the waiting area across from
her mother's hospital room, trying to keep her head down or her face
turned away so that she wouldn't he recognized by anyone She knew and
be asked the inevitable questions that would follow. And she thought
of Drew and The kiss he'd promised her.

She thought about the child they'd shared in the small est of ways--and
in none of the ways that really mattered.

Should she tell him? Would it only hurt him more to know? Would he,
in turn, whether from anger or haste or an honest desire to be a father
to his son, end 'up hurting

Billy in some way? It would have to hurt Billy to discover he'd been
lied to all these years, that the parents he'd known and loved from the
time he was a baby hadn't been his real parents. And, selfishly,
Carolyn wondered if Billy would come to hate her.

Carolyn couldn't even plead ignorance. She'd made a conscious decision
to give up her son. But Drew never had. "Carolyn?"

Startled, she looked up to see that her aunt had returned.

"I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to frighten you."

Carolyn shook her head. "I was just thinking,"

"I got us some decent coffee from that little cafe around the corner,
and some sandwiches." She handed Carolyn a cup, then set her own down
on the table and opened up a brown bag she'd tucked into her purse.
"Any word?"

"No, not yet," Carolyn said, sipping the coffee. She took the sandwich
her aunt offered, placed it on her lap. She couldn't even think about
food right now. "They're still running tests."

"I'm sure she's going to be fine, dear. Your mother's a very strong
woman. Think of how much she's endured in her lifetime,"

"I know, Aunt Ellen. It's just that it hasn't been that long since
Daddy died, and to have this thing with Annie coming so close on top of
it... I have to wonder how much she can take. And I hate to see what'
this is doing to Billy. He's"

She broke off when Drew came strolling into the waiting area. His gaze
locked on to hers, and for a moment her thoughts ran back in time, to
the night before, when she'd felt how much he wanted her, felt the
emotions warring inside him. She'd thought that he might actually tell
her he loved her still, she'd imagined what it would he like to hear
that again, maybe even to let herself believe it.

It would be something to hold on to in the days ahead, when everything
was sure to turn crazy. She'd held on to Drew's love before, and it
had gotten her through a 10t.

"Hello," she heard Drew say, as he held out his hand to the woman
beside her.

"I'm Carolyn's/aunt, Ellen Monroe."

The two were shaking hands before Carolyn even realized how rude she
was being. "I'm sorry," she said. "II guess I'm a little distracted
today. Aunt Ellen, this is Drew Delaney."

"I'm the one who's sorry," her aunt said. "I know I should have
remembered your name, because your face looks so familiar, but I just
can't place it."

Drew didn't say anything, though his curiosity was clearly aroused.

It was all Carolyn could do to stand there and remain silent while she
watched and waited for ten years' worth of lies to dissolve in front of
her eyes.

"I don't believe we've met," Drew said. "Unless you used to live
here?"

"No, I never did. My sister moved here when her late husband got a job
here, just before Carolyn was born," Ellen said, clearly as puzzled as
Drew. "You used to live here?"

"Ten years ago," he said.

Carolyn fought to keep the terror she was feeling from showing on her
face.

She should have told trim last night, when she had the chance. Either
then, or ten years ago, when she gave birth to his child.

"Oh." The little sound her aunt made spoke volumes to Carolyn, who
shot her a pleading look.

"Drew's with the FBI" she managed to say in a somewhat steady voice.
"He's the one who picked up on the link between the other little
girl's. kidnapping and An rile's. He recognized the clothes."

"Oh," her aunt said again.

"Are they here yet?" Carolyn, desperate to change the subject, said to
D~ew.

"What?" he asked, obviously aware that there were hhings going on in
this room that he didn't understand. "The clothes? Did they come
yet?"

"Yes." He gave her the strangest look, then held up his briefcase.
"That's why I'm here."

That was all the excuse Carolyn needed. She no longer had to hide the
fear that threatened to overwhelm her. "I

want to get this over with as soon as possible. "

"Are you sure?" He put his hand on her arm, perhaps bemuse he realized
she could fall over at any moment. Her legs felt like rubber and she
had to get him away from her aunt before Ellen said any more.

"I'm sure. Is there somewhere we can g~, besides here?"

"Of course," he offered.

"Aunt Ellen, you'll stay here, in case there's any news about Mom?"

"Yes, dear," she said, but her eyes told Carolyn something quite
different;.

He's the one, isn't he?

Carolyn nodded. Then she turned and headed for the door, pausing only
when Drew didn't immediately follow her. He stood in the middle of the
room, looking from Carolyn to' her aunt, then back again. Finally, he
turned to Ellen and once again held out his hand. "It's been a
pleasure meeting you," he said

When she didn't add anything else, he walked across the room to Carolyn
and put his hand at the small of her back, and they started walking
down the hallway.

Carolyn 'was still worried that they were going to run into someone
else who'd recognize him, someone who knew Billy and would put two and
two together;

"I took a room at that bed-and-breakfast you mentioned," Drew said.
"It's only three blocks from here. We could talk there, ~you like?"

"You can stay at the house again, tonight. We have the room," Carolyn
said.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Carolyn thought of the sexual tension that had flared between them last
evening. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for Drew to be sleeping so
close by. "All right. We can go to your room at the inn."

-" How's your mother?"

"They'~ still doing tests."

The elevator doors closed, giving them a moment of privacy. Drew
stepped closer, pulling her against his side, reassuring her with his
touch. "Did your mother remember talking to me yesterday?"

"I think so. She wouldn't talk about it. Or... actually, she wouldn't
let me talk about Annie. But I think she re, members."

"Want to tell me what was going on back there with your aunt?"

Carolyn shivered, but not from the cold. "I will," she said,
committing herself to getting the truth out. "Just... not now. Not
here. All right?"

The elevator doors opened, revealing a crowd that parted to let them
make their way out. Thankfully, amazingly, she didn't recognize
anyone.

"This way," Drew said, leading her-out the side entrance and into the
sunshine.

They walked briskly through the clear but cool day, toward two of the
grimmest tasks Carolyn had ever faced. Wordlessly they made their way
inside the stately old house of white stone, up the winding staircase
and into Drew's quarters.

She was studying the *******s of the room--a huge antique four-poster
bed, a comfortable-looking sofa done in a bright floral print, fresh
flowers on the bureau, bright sunshine streaming in through the long,
flowing lace curtains--when she heard the lock click shut and turned to
face Drew.

"I didn't think you'd want to be disturbed," he said as be stood by the
door.

She shook her head. "I just... I need to get this over with ."

"Sit down," he said, motioning toward the couch.

She sat with her hands clenched in her lap and her eyes closed.
"First," she said, "would you kiss me? Just once? '

"Carolyn, you don't"

"Please. Just once."

It was a ridiculous request, considering why they'd come here and what
she had to do. And she was definitely stalling, even though she
claimed to want this over with as quickly as possible. But she needed
him right now. She needed to be in his arms, to feel close to him, one
more time, before it all dissolved away.

"Just once," she repeated, afraid to even open her eyes. Carolyn felt
the couch give with his weight beside. her, felt him haul her into his
arms and, when that wasn't enough--when they still weren't close
enough--lift her up and sit her on his lap. Drew leaned back into the
corner of the sofa, his arms pulling her head down to the hollow
between his neck and his shoulders. He squeezed her tight, his heat
soaking into the chill that seemed to go all the way down to ~her
bones. His breath was warm against her cheek, and his hands tenderly
stroked through her long hair.

She waited for the touch of his lips against hers, but it didn't come.
Instead, they settled high on her cheek, next to her ear.

"Sweetheart," he whispered against her skin, "you don't have to look at
anything. Do you understand that? I

already looked myself. "

"You did?"

He nodded. "I would have told you at the hospital, but I didn't want
to do it with a bunch of people around."

"And they're Annie's clothes, aren't they?"

Carolyn hadn't even realized her tears were falling again. She hadn't
been sure she had any left to cry, but they just poured out of her now,
and Drew wiped them away.

"I found the initials," he said. "They're faded, but they're there."

He held her tighter then. For a moment, she would have sworn he was
the only thing holding her together.

He'd found Annie's clothes. He'd found a link between her and another
little girl, who'd gotten away,.

Why couldn't Annie have gotten away?

"I still miss her," Carolynsaid. "When I come home, I still go and sit
in her room at night and imagine that she's going to come running
through that door, still thirteen years old."

Drew just held on to her. It was the most amazing feel-ingin the
world. She felt safe and secure and--did she dare think it? --loved.
And even that~ even after all this time, seemed traitorous to her lost
little sister.

"She Was my best friend," Carolyn said. "And she never should have
disappeared. It shouldn't have happened to her. It should have been
me."

"No," Drew said. "I'm not going to let you do this to yourself."

"I sent her there," Carolyn said. "I was supposed to be the one to go
back to the, house, because my mother asked me to go, but I sent Annie
instead. Don't you see? It should have been me. I should have"

And then she couldn't talk through her tears any longer. She couldn't
remember the last time the guilt had come on strong enough that it
seemed capable of driving a hole through her heart this way.

She didn't remember the last time anyone had been willing to listen to
her talk this way about the little sister she'd lost. She couldn't
remember when she'd last felt comfortable enough with someone to show
what Annie's disappearance had done to her, what it still did to her
today.

Drew understood. He'd been there. He'd lived throt~gh it with her,
and it was different, sharing these old feelings with him, from the way
it had been to tell them to someone who hadn't ever known Annie or
loved her.

She cried until she felt drained of all emotion and all energy. Cried
until that blessed feeling of being washed clean inside came over
her.

And he held her through it all. He didn't try to stop her or' rush
her. He simply accepted what she was feeling, and let her get it
out.

"I'm here," he said, when the sobbing subsided.

He kissed her hair, kissed her wet cheeks, and Carolyn found herself
wanting more than anything to press her lips against his and lose
herself in the magic of his touch.

It was still magical. It was still there between them, this
connection, this attraction. It was still there--and likely still~ as
doomed as ever.

She watched as the world seemed to slow down around them, as she could
see only him, feel only the warmth of his touch and, for an instant,
think only of him.

There hadn't been anyone else, not in all these years, who managed to
touch her heart the way he had. From time to time she'd tried, in
desperation, to feel just a little of what she'd felt for him with
someone else, but it had never happened. She wondered now if i~ever
would, wondered why it should be this way. Why she was destined to
feel like this only with Drew, when she didn't see how they could ever
make things work between them.

~Still, in this moment when there was nothing in the world but the two
of them" she wanted him. She wanted him so much, and she was tempted
to take what he was offering her, with no word to him about what she'd
done, and no thought to the future.

After all, she hadn't seen him in ten agonizingly long years. Surely
it wouldn't be so bad to take one night, out of ten years of lonely
nights, to be with him.

He would likely hate her before morning, anyway, because she had to
tell him. She'd been living on borrowed time ever since he'd come
back. She didn'tthink she would get another chance to tell him herself
before someone else put the pieces together and let the truth slip out.
And she knew that the news had to come from her. In the back of her
mind, she thought that might count for something--that she'd chosen to
tell him rather than let him find out from someone else.

Carolyn watched, fascinated, as his face came down to hers. His lips
closed over hers, and she felt as if she'd opened up her soul to him.
As if she could simply let go of the years of loneliness and longing
now, because he was finally her with her.

"I don't know how I ever stayed away," he took the time to say, before
kissing her again.

"I wish you hadn't," she said, perilously close to tears again.

She wanted to hang on to him, wanted to hold back the hands of time and
give the two of them just a few moments together.

She hadn't realized how much she missed him, how much she needed him,
how terribly lonely she'd been without him.

The kiss was devastating, turning her bones to mush, her resolve to
sheer indecision. Her body, which might as well have been in some sort
of deep freeze for the past ten years, had come roaring back to life,
the feeling overloading her ability to think and reason.

She was vaguely aware that his hands had come up to her face again,
that his lips had left hers again, and then she felt the tears. He'd
found them before she realized they were there, and now he followed the
tracks of her tears with the side of his thumb.

"It won't always be like this," he said, and she thought he meant it as
a promise to her, but, of course, he didn't know everything yet.
Otherwise, he wouldn't make promises like that. 'll0

Carolyn closed her eyes and kissed him again, urgently this time,
wishing she could sink back into the wonderful oblivion of his tough
and forget everything else.

He kissed her back, just once, so hard and fast that the blood went
pounding through her heart. And then he pulled back an dit was all
over.

"I'm sorry," she said, unable to figure out exactly what she was
sorriest about. The list seemed endless. "Why?"

"Because... because I'm so afraid that I'll never get to be with you
again like this, that I'll never feel like this again. And I don't see
how I can get through the rest of my life without any of that."

"Why won't you ever be with me again like this?" Hastily she dried the
rest of her tears' and put a little distance between them. Time for
the hard part. Time for her confession. God help her, it was time to
own up to the mistakes she'd made all those years ago.

"Oh, Drew..." She barely managed to get the words out. "I'm so
afraid."

"Why? Because of Annie? Because of something that happened ten years
ago, when we were just kids? You're going to let that ruin everything
between us, all over again?"

"Not just that."

"Then what?"

She felt sick to her stomach then. There it was, the perfect opening.
And she didn't see how she could take it. Her courage had totally
deserted her.

"Ok, l~t's go down the list," he said. "Annie's disappearance. " Why
does that still have to be between us? How can you let it? Because it
wonrt bring her back. And you can't believe that she'd want her
disappearance to keep us apart. "

"Itshould have been me," she said, knowing. she'd said it. before
knowing how truly irrational her feelings about this were. "My mother
sent me back to the house, and I'm the one who sent Annie instead."

"So do you blame your mother, too? Or the town, for having a picnic
that day? Or whoever turned that day in August into a town holiday and
scheduled a picnic celebration?" Drew asked. "You don't blame them,
do you?"

"No."

"Do you blame me? I'm the one who wanted to be with you. I'm the one
your parents didn't want you to see."

"No; I never blamed you."

"Carolyn, you couldn't stand to have me touch you after she left. You
didn, t even want to be in the same room with me, Did you think I
couldn't see that? Or that I didn't understand why?"

Drew knew he had to be careful. He had to watch that the memories that
had been dragged up, and the emotions that went along with them, didn,t
choke him.

They hadn't done anything so terribly wrong, anything that hundreds of
thousands of kids didn't do every day. There'd been this town picnic.
He'd missed Carolyn. Her parents hadn't wantS her to see him, because
they. didn,t approve of him. He'd been a little too rough, and his
family had been too poor and his father too big a drinker, for him to
he associating with their daughter. But that hadn't stopped them from
sneaking off to see each other. After all, they'd been in love.

He'd seen her at the picnic, but stayed out of sight because he didn't
want her parents to see him. When she left to walk the three blocks
from the park to her house to get the fresh-baked bread her mother had
left at home, Drew had followed. He'd caught up with her as she left
the park, and suggested that they find someplace where they could he
alone for a while.

Carolyn had agreed. And Annie had shown up just then, She'd been a
beautiful child, just starting to grow a little taller, still tom
boyishly thin, her long, pale blond hair shining in the sunlight. She'd
liked Drew, even though she knew her parents didn't. She'd promised
not to tell her parents that she'd seen Carolyn and Drew together. And
Annie had been the one who ended up going back to the house to' get the
bread for her mother.

Carolyn had asked Annie to do that, after Drew pressured her into
sneaking away from the picnic with him.

They'd been necking behind a huge old tree at the edge of the park
while that man snatched Annie.

Drew would never forget the way her mother had questioned Carolyn, the
way Carolyn had. broken down and sobbed when it became clear that her
sister was nowhere to be found.

Day after agonizing day had gone by, with no word, no clue. The days
had turned into weeks, the hopes fading away with each day that passed.
Carolyn hadn't been able to look at him. She hadn't let him touch her
for the longest time. She'd simply withdrawn from him and from cry
thing else.

He knew now that some people dealt with grief that way; that otherwise
stable marriages dissolved under the stress of the disappearance of a
child. They'd just been two teenagers in love. Carolyn had been
seventeen, Draw nearly nineteen. It was no wonder that Annie's
disappearance had torn them apart.

Of course, he could have stayed. He could have waited it out.
Eventually they might have overcome the grief and guilt. But he hadn't
stuck around to see that happen. He'd gotten angry and impatient and
scared, because he hadn't been able to find a way to make things better
for Carolyn, no matter how hard he tried.

And if he'd failed her then, when she needed him more than she ever
had, he was sure to fail her again. At least that was what he'd
thought back then.

He'd gotten angry one night. Drew had always hated Hope, Illinois, and
without Carolyn, there had been nothing there for him. He'd enlisted
in the army a few months after Annie disappeared.

He'd come to Carolyn's house one night and boldly knocked on the front
door, enraging her mother in the process, and calmly told Carolyn that
he was leaving. He could have asked her to write, to call, to wait for
him. But he hadn't.

He'd been tired of shouldering the blame for something that wasn't his
fault, tired of trying to make it better for Carolyn and failing
miserably.

He'd just walked away and left her.

She'd cried. She'd asked him not to leave her. She'd said she needed
him, but he'd thought that more than anything she needed to forget
about him' and all the guilt she'd come to associate with their
relationship. But he hadn't told her that. He'd said that he couldn't
help her any more than he already had and he couldn't take the guilt
any longer.

He'd never come back. He'd been tempted, but he'd stayed away--another
mistake to add to his list. He recognized them so clearly now. He
should never have left. And even then, even if he'd had to go, he
should never have stayed away from her, because he had this sneaking
suspicion that he was still in love with her.

it sounded crazy, after all these years, when he'd spent not even
twenty-four hours with her in the past ten years, but that was how he
felt.

Still, there was so much between them. Annie's disappearance still
being the biggest obstacle, his own desertion weighing in as a strong
second.

Yet he couldn't deny how strong his feelings were for her. He was
shaking, caught up in the past, still angry about it, still resentful
about what had happened. But he hoped that they could overcome all
that now, because he desperately wanted another chance with her. The
knowledge simply burst forth from somewhere deep inside him,

leaving him a little dazed but feeling more alive than he had in
years.

He'd spent too much time needing Carolyn and denying that need or
trying to simply kill it off, too much time telling himself that it was
too late for them and that he couldn't change what' he done any more
than he could bring Annie McKay back.

And then, amazing as it was, Annie had been the one to bring him
back.

Drew wasn't a religious man, but he had the oddest feeling that he
needed to thank her for that, that she was somehow watching over them
all and had brought him home again. Crazy as it sounded, he offered
her his silent thanks for drawing him back to this little town.

"Carolyn?" She was still in his arms, and he wanted never to let go of
her. He kissed her hair, dried her tears, and wondered what he could
do to make her smile for him now.

"I didn't blame you," she said shakily. "I blamed my-serf. Not
you."

"Sweetheart, you didn't want to be with me after Annie disappeahxl. You
didn't want me touching you, couldn't stand me kissing you."

"Because I felt too guilty. Before, ~I wanted you so much that nothing
else mattered. I would have done anything to be with you that day, and
if I hadn't felt that way, if I'd been thinking about anything or
anyone more than I'd been thinking about be' rag with you, this might
never have happened. Annie might still be here."

"No," ~he told her. "If there hadn't been some sick man out there who
liked little girls, Annie would still be here. If he hadn't decided to
come to Hope on that day ten years ago, Annie would still be here. If
Annie hadn't caught eye somehow, she would still be here. Orif someone
me had been doing their job a little better, and caught the son of a
bitch long before he ever turned to Annie, she'd still be here. That's
why stuff like this happens. Not because two teenagers wanted to spend
ten minutes alone together.

"You know it's true," he told her. "You work with missing kids. You
know there are always a million little things that any number of people
could have done differently to change everything--to make the
difference in any one child's life. It only takes a split second for
everything to change. And once it does, nothing can turn things back
to the way they used to be."

"I do know that," she finally admitted. "In my head, yes, I know it.
But my heart--I can't convince myself of that in my heart. She was my
sister. She looked up to me. She thought I was perfect, and that I
had all the answers, but I didn't."

He looked down into her tearstained face, the despair there enough to
break his heart all over again, if it hadn't been broken so irrevocably
the day he'd left her ten years ago. "None of us is perfect, Carolyn:
Thankfully, none of us is held to that high a standard."

"I know it's irrational, Drew. Believe me, I know that.. But it
doesn't change how I feel."

"Look at me, Carolyn." He pulled hack just enough that she could look
him in the eye. "It's not your fault. And you know that. It was that
man who took her--it was his fault, and I'm going to find him. I'm
going to find out what he did to Annie, and then I'm going to be damned
lucky if I don't kill the guy myself."

She paled at that, and he took a moment to try to calm down. "I've
spent ten years of my life trying to make up for this," he said, when
he could speak more calmly. "I feel sick inside every time I hear
about another child who's missing. I feel it in my gut, every minute
we're looking, every minute some creep gets a little farther away from
us with some little kid. I do that day in and day out, week after
week, year after year, because Fm still trying to make up for what
happened to Annie."

He didn't like admitting that to her. He didn't like admitting it to
himself. It was as irrational as the way she blamed herself, but it
was all he knew. Punishment or penance, he couldn't be sure which. He
only knew that the job satisfied some deep-seated need in him, in a way
nothing else did2 In much the same way lpeing with her, holding her in
his arms again, satisfied him on the most basic level.

He wouldn't think about all that he'd lost when he gave her up so long
ago. He wouldn't rage at the injustice that both of them were still
trying to somehow make up for.

He'd thought her guilt was tied up with him and with their
relationship, that she was punishing herself and him by denying them
any chance at happiness. That the guilt had twisted things so badly in
her mind that she didn't think they deserved to be happy because Annie
was gone.

And he'd thought that by leaving her, he could somehow take away the
guilt, as well.

But now he knew. He'd left for nothing. He hadn't spared her anything
at all. If anything, he'd probably made things worse by walking out on
her.

How would he ever explain that to her? How would he make her
understand something he couldn't understand himself? He didn't know,
but he'd find a way. He'd make a second chance for them.

"Carolyn," he began, "I told you last night that I never should have
left you, that I'll regret it till the day I die. Do you believe
that?"

"Yes," she said, hesitant now.

"Do you think you can ever forgive me for that?"

"Oh, Drew..." She looked scared now, and he wondered if he was pushing
too hard, too fast.

"I want us to have another chance. Last night, you said you could give
that to me."

"Speechless? I love leaving my women speechless." She almost smiled
then, and he knew how much she needed to. But it' did bring up a
terrible thought. There weren't any other women in his life. There
hadn't been for a long time. He was too busy, and honestly not that
interested. But he'd never even asked if there was a man in her life.
Just because she still used her maiden name and there was no ring on
her finger, that didn't mean she was free.

"There isn't anyone else, is there?" he asked, when she still looked
worded.

"No, it's not that."

"Then what? I know my timing's lousy, but I can't help it. I can't
wait, when I don't know how long it's going to take before things get
back to normal."

She hesitated, composed now, but still obviously frightened. Of him?
Surely not. Of being involved with anyone? He could understand her
being apprehensive, but that wasn't what he was seeing here. It was
out-and-out fear. God knew he'd seen that emotion often enough to
recognize it.

Why would she be so frightened?

He wanted to make her smile again, wanted to wrap his arms around her
and keep her safe from anything and everything in this world that had
the power to hurt her. He wanted her in his bed and in his Yffe,
forever. He would not leave Hope again without her.

Drew waited a minute as the realizations clicked into place inside him.
It felt . right. It felt as if everything were right with his
world--a crazy sentiment, in the midst of all this insanity. But that
was how it felt. He was with Carolyn again, and he wasn't ever going
to let her go.

This was what he'd been waiting for, what he'd been missing his 'whole
life. This would make him complete and whole and happy. Carolyn.
Somehow, it had always been Carolyn. He was so relieved to finally
admit it to himself.

Now to convince her of that. He chose his words carefully, not wanting
to frighten her, and careful not to belittle the things standing in
their way. He knew there were many obstacles, but they could overcome
all of them. Nothing would stop him from making it happen.

"It won't always be like this," he told her. "I'm going to find out
what happened to Annie, and we're going to let go of all the guilt and
the anger. It's time, Carolyn. We don't need to be beating ourselves
up over this anymore.

And we can't let it keep i~s apart any longer. "

"It's not that simple," she said.

"It is. It's in the past, and no matter what we do, we can't change
it. And you can't tell me that you're willing to give up on us again
because of what happened to Annie."

Carolyn sighed wearily. The past, she thought. Unchangeable as
something set in stone, and all-powerful. He understood that, and he
was asking her not to let it stand in their way. But how would he feel
when he was the one who had to do the forgetting and the forgiving?
When he had to understand that some decisions, once made, could not be
undone? Woul~d he be able to put the past behind them?

She was almost certain the man was about to tell her he was still in
love with her, and she couldn't as she longed to hear the words from
him couldn't let him say them now. Not when he still didn't know

She knew. She felt the love in him, knew she was this close to getting
him back, only to lose him all over again. But she couldn't think of
that now. Not now. There was no time, and it would only make this
more difficult.

"Drew, it's not just Annie," she said, turning her back to him and
searching for strength. "God knows I still feel guilty about what
happened to her, but she's not the only thing standing between us right
now."