The Saint(141)

“What about him?”

Nora swallowed hard. “Four years after we graduated, they found him dead in his apartment in Chelsea.”

Nico’s eyes widened.

“Turns out Wyatt had bipolar disorder. Explained how he had so much energy he could talk circles around me, which takes either talent or a manic episode. A college friend of mine told me. Apparently they changed his meds and he …” She paused and tried to imagine her life had she stayed with Wyatt. Would they have married? Could she have helped him? Would she have been a widow at age twenty-six? “They published his poetry after he died. He was good.”

“Nora,” Nico said. “So much lost.”

“So much found.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “Do you believe in God?”

“I’m a grape farmer. My whole life I’ve watched water turn into wine. Of course I believe in God.”

She took a deep shuddering breath and looked up at Nico. Last night had meant something to her, meant so much that she couldn’t bear to sully it with a secret.

“Ten years ago I got pregnant. It was Kingsley’s. I didn’t have the baby. I should have told you this months ago, should have told you before you even kissed me. I’m telling you now. I don’t regret my choice, but all this time I haven’t been able to shake the feeling I was supposed to have Kingsley’s child. When I learned about you that feeling finally went away.”

Nico only stared at her a moment, and then he did something she never expected he would do. He kissed her on the forehead.

“It went away, because I am Kingsley’s child,” he said. “And you had me, Mistress Nora, and you will always have me.”

“Nico …”

“Kingsley is my father. Søren is your ‘Father.’ We were meant to find each other. And that is my theology.”

“I appreciate your theology,” she whispered.

He kissed her then, a final kiss, a goodbye kiss. The worst kind of kiss.

After the kiss, Nico didn’t speak. He turned away, got into his car and drove off. He didn’t look back when he left her, and she watched him until he disappeared from view.

Nora returned to the cottage, crawled into bed and slept the day away. When she awoke it was nearly night in the Black Forest but still evening in America. She found her phone and walked with it until she picked up a signal.

It rang only once before he answered.

“Eleanor?”

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“Where are you?” Søren asked, sounding more relieved than she’d ever heard him.

“Bavaria,” she said. “I’m in the Black Forest.”

“Bavaria? It’s been two weeks and no one’s heard a word from you. What are you doing—”

“Mom died.”

On the other end of the line she heard nothing but stunned silence.

“It was lung cancer,” she said, as if it mattered. It didn’t.

“Little One, I’m so sorry.”

“She only had days or hours, they didn’t know. That’s why I left so fast. I had to be there before she was gone.”

“Were you?”

“She was lucid for a day before lapsing into a coma for four days. I held her hand while she died.” Nora closed her eyes. Her mother had clung to life with terrifying tenacity. On the fourth night of the watch, Eleanor had fallen asleep bedside, holding her mother’s hand. Her mother’s hand was warm when Eleanor fell asleep. By the time she woke up five hours later, it was cold. “She wouldn’t have wanted me leaning on you for comfort. She wouldn’t have wanted you there, even for me. Out of respect for her …”

“I understand,” he said. “I know how she felt about me. And I was always grateful that she kept our secret even though she hated me.”

“I owed her because of that. Before she died, she said she wanted her ashes spread here in the Black Forest. This was her favorite place as a little girl.”

“How are you, Eleanor?” Søren asked, and she heard the concern in his voice from an ocean away. “Tell me the truth.”

“We’re all orphans now—you, me, Kingsley,” she said, and she didn’t know why. “I wonder what that means.”

“It means we must love each other even more because all we have is each other.”

“I’m sorry I missed our anniversary, sir.”

She broke on the sir and cried into the phone.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now,” Søren said. “I hate that you’re alone.”

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“When’s your flight home?” he asked.