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Dear John(92)

By:Nicholas Sparks


“Sorry,” she said. “I know I shouldn’t be crying, but I can’t help it.”

“It’s understandable,” I murmured. “You’ve got a lot going on.”

In the silence, I listened to the sheets of rain batter the windowpanes.

“It’s quite a storm,” I observed, grasping for words that would fill the taut silence.

“Yeah,” she said, barely listening.

“Do you think Alan’s going to be okay?”

She tapped her fingers against the glass. “He won’t leave until it stops raining. He doesn’t like lightning. But it shouldn’t last long. The wind will push the storm toward the coast. At least, that’s the way it’s been lately.” She hesitated. “Do you remember that storm we sat out? When I took you to the house we were building?”

“Of course.”

“I still think about that night. That was the first time I told you that I loved you. I was remembering that night just the other day. I was sitting here just like I am now. Tim was in the hospital, Alan was with him, and while I watched the rain, it all came back. The memory was so vivid, it felt like it had just happened. And then the rain stopped and I knew it was time to feed the horses. I was back in my regular life again, and all at once, it felt like I had just imagined the whole thing. Like it happened to someone else, someone I don’t even know anymore.”

She leaned toward me. “What do you remember the most?” she asked.

“All of it,” I said.

She looked at me beneath her lashes. “Nothing stands out?”

The storm outside made the room feel dark and intimate, and I felt a shiver of guilty anticipation about where all this might be leading. I wanted her as much as I’d ever wanted anyone, but in the back of my mind, I knew Savannah wasn’t mine anymore. I could feel Tim’s presence all around me, and I knew she wasn’t really herself.

I took a sip of wine, then set the glass back on the table.

“No.” I kept my voice steady. “Nothing stands out. But that’s why you always wanted me to look at the moon, right? So that I could remember all of it?”

What I didn’t say was that I still went out to stare at the moon, and despite the guilt I was feeling about being here, I wondered whether she did, too.

“You want to know what I remember most?” she asked.

“When I broke Tim’s nose?”

“No.” She laughed, then turned serious. “I remember the times we went to church. Do you realize that they’re still the only times I ever saw you in a tie? You should get dressed up more often. You looked good.” She seemed to reflect on that before turning her eyes to me again.

“Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.

“No.”

She nodded. “I didn’t think so. I figured you would have mentioned it.”

She turned toward the window. In the distance, I could see one of the horses galloping in the rain.

“I’m going to have to feed them in a little while. I’m sure they’re wondering where I am already.”

“They’ll be okay,” I assured her.

“Easy for you to say. Trust me—they can get as cranky as people when they’re hungry.”

“It must be hard handling all this on your own.”

“It is. But what choice do I have? At least our employer’s been understanding. Tim’s on a leave of absence, and whenever he’s in the hospital, they let me take however much time I need.” Then, in a teasing tone, she added, “Just like the army, right?”

“Oh yeah. It’s exactly the same.”

She giggled, then became sober again. “How was it in Iraq?”

I was about to make my usual crack about the sand, but instead I said, “It’s hard to describe.”

Savannah waited, and I reached for my glass of wine, stalling. Even with her, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go into it. But something was happening between us, something I wanted and yet didn’t want. I forced myself to look at Savannah’s ring and imagine the betrayal she would no doubt feel later. I closed my eyes and started with the night of the invasion.

I don’t know how long I talked, but it was long enough for the rain to have ended. With the sun still drifting in its slow descent, the horizon glowed the colors of a rainbow. Savannah refilled her glass. By the time I finished, I was entirely spent and knew I’d never speak of it again.

Savannah had remained quiet as I spoke, asking only the occasional question to let me know she was listening to everything I said.

“It’s different from what I imagined,” she remarked.

“Yeah?” I asked.