The Keeper of Happy Endings(52)

“With what?”

“With you.”

My mouth works mutely, trying to digest the two words. “With me? I don’t understand. How do they even know who I am?”

“I told you. They know everything. Last night wasn’t about finding out what I know. It was about telling me what they know. They know we’re getting forged papers, but not where we’re getting them. They also know we’re using a network of couriers.”

“And they know I’m one of them,” I supply quietly.

“No. At least I don’t think they do. But they do know about us, that we’re . . .”

Lovers. The word hangs unspoken in the air between us. Not strictly true—not in the physical sense of the word—but true in every way that matters.

“Is love a crime now too?”

“No,” he says, standing abruptly. “But it’s . . . useful.”

I stare at him, rolling the word around in my head. Useful. And then suddenly it falls into place. They didn’t have to threaten him. All they had to do was threaten me.

“You have to leave, Soline. There’s no way around it.”

I get to my feet slowly, silently. They tell us what can happen, and we say we understand. But somehow we’ve all managed to convince ourselves it won’t happen to us. That as long as we’re careful, there will be no late-night knock at our door, no boots following as we slip down an empty alley, no neatly typed list with our name on it. We believe it until we can’t believe it anymore.

“Do you understand, Soline?”

I nod numbly. “You’re saying I have to leave the hospital.”

“I’m saying you have to leave France.”

It takes a moment for the words to penetrate, and even then I can’t make sense of them. “Leave . . . France?”

“It isn’t safe for you here.”

I wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “But where will we go?”

He looks at me, unblinking. “Not we, Soline. You.”

The moment seems to slow, spooling out between us. I’ve heard people describe the moment they received bad news—they felt the blood drain from their face or the air leave their lungs—and for me, in this moment, every bit of that is true.

Leave France without him? He can’t possibly have just suggested such a thing. But when I look at him again I realize he has, and that he means it.

“I won’t go,” I tell him flatly. “Not without you.”

“I can’t leave now, Soline. Surely you know that. There’s too much left to do, too many people depending on me.”

“You’re one person, Anson. They can do without one person. And what about the Gestapo? You think once I’m gone, they’ll just leave you alone? They won’t. You know they won’t.”

“Of course they won’t. But if you’re safe, it won’t matter what they do to me.”

“It will matter to me!”

He heaves a sigh, so very tired. “I need you to do this. Please.”

“I can’t go, Anson. I can’t leave without you.”

“I’ve already arranged it.”

I blink at him, astonished. “Without talking to me?”

“There wasn’t time. I’ve spoken with Sumner. You go tomorrow. A safe house first, then out through Spain, like the rest.”

“No.”

“Soline, we talked about this.”

“Not like this, we didn’t! We talked about going together. When the war was over. It was never supposed to be just me. Are you trying to get rid of me? Is that what this is, a way to get me out of your hair?”

It’s an unfair thing to say. A horrible thing. But I’ve just had the legs knocked out from under me, and I want to hurt him as he has hurt me. I turn my back, wiping my tears on my sleeve.

“Soline.”

I stiffen when he touches me but don’t resist when he turns me around to face him. He hooks my chin with his fingers, forcing me to look at him. “I need you to do this. I need it for me. Do you understand?”

He drops his hands to my shoulders when I try to pull away, holding me in place. “I can’t quit, Soline. What I’m doing—what we’re all doing—is too important. As long as Sumner’s in, so am I. That’s just how it is. But I won’t be able to keep myself safe while I’m worried about you getting picked up. And you will if you stay. Because they know all they have to do is tell me they have you, and I’ll tell them everything.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“But I would,” he says quietly. “Without thinking twice.”

Suddenly I understand. It isn’t just me he’s afraid for. It’s the cause, the lives that would hang in the balance if I were to be arrested—because if he was forced to choose, he would choose me. But I wouldn’t want that.

“Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t give in to them. Not for me.”

“I have to know you’re safe, Soline. So I can work.”

I turn my head, blinking back tears. The decision has been made. The plans we made, the future we thought we would have together, are over. We’re over.

“You can do this,” he says gently. “You’ll be with our people. Your papers will be ready in a few hours. You leave at dawn.”