The Things We Cannot Say(40)

I did the only rational thing, given the circumstances—I thumped him. My hands were still in fists, and I beat the sides of them against his chest again and again as I sobbed.

“Tomasz! I’m scaring you? You scared me half to death!”

He pushed my fists aside, but rather than pushing me away, he scooped me onto his lap and pressed my face into his shoulder as he whispered, “Shhh... I’m sorry, my love, I’m so sorry.”

I pulled away from him to clasp the collar of his coat in both of my fists, then I shook him, hard. In the recesses of my mind, it registered how dirty he was. Beneath my fingers, I felt the roughness of dried mud in the wool of his collar.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hiding?” he offered, giving me a slightly wry grin. I shook him furiously.

“Tomasz! How long have you been hiding in the woods!”

“Shh!” His hushing was a little more urgent now, because I was shouting in my bewilderment and my shock. “Just a few weeks... I...” He peered at me, confused. “Wait—you didn’t know I was here? How did you find me?”

“Weeks?” I gasped, then I glared at him. “You have been here for weeks and you didn’t come to let me know you were okay? Do you have any idea how scared I’ve been?”

“Alina,” he whispered, gently scolding me. “Surely you knew I’d come back for you.”

“I did know that!” I protested, but then I started to cry all over again. “But I was scared. I was so worried that you were hurt...or maybe that you’d found another life somewhere.”

He brushed my hair back from my face. “I told you that last night before I left. We are meant to be together. I was always coming back for you, and I always, always will.”

We both paused at that, and we just stared at each other, soft smiles on our faces. I wiped the tears from my face and made a resolution to myself to stop crying immediately, because there was plenty to cry about in those days—but from where I found myself that night, things instantly looked much brighter. I decided there would be enough time for recriminations later, so I cupped his scruff-covered cheeks in my hands and I brought his face hard against mine so that I could kiss him. Oh, it was heaven to be with him again—heaven to press my lips against his and to breathe him in, all of him, the scent of the woods in his wildly overgrown hair and his clothes and even the scent of his sweat—just because it was all Tomasz, and it all made his return so much more real. By the time we parted, both of our faces were wet with tears.

There are some moments in life that are distorted by anticipation. It has a way of warping our expectations—inflating them somehow. This was not one of those moments. Every single thing about the minute Tomasz and I were reunited was just as delicious as I’d hoped, and sinking back into his arms was just as wonderful as all of the hours I’d spent dreaming had promised it would be.

“Where have you been?” I breathed.

“In Warsaw at first,” he said, then he sighed and said it again as he shook his head. “Then these last few months, I’ve been making my way back here to you. It wasn’t easy to get back.”

He was only twenty-one, but his entire demeanor suddenly shifted. His shoulders were slumped, and now that I was sitting on his lap and close enough to see his face in the darkness, I could see that his cheeks were gaunt beneath his beard, and the sparkle had faded somewhat in those beautiful green eyes. Still, I loved him with a ferocity that almost frightened me. Dirty, starved, miserable and weary—none of that even registered beyond a passing acknowledgment. I loved him so deeply that all I really saw was that he was mine again. Everything else in the world might have gone to Hell, but that one fact was incontrovertible.

“It will be okay,” I promised him. “We’re together again now—that’s all that matters.”

“I know, my love. But you must understand, no one can know that I’m here, not even your parents. I’m in some trouble,” he admitted. But before I could even think about what that might mean, it only occurred to me then that he probably had no idea about Aleksy’s fate, or how difficult life in the region had become for us all.

“I have to tell you some things,” I whispered, staring right into his eyes. For just a moment, I could barely recognize the boy I loved. He suddenly seemed like an old man—weary and worn down by war and sadness.

“If it is about my father, I have already heard,” he whispered.

I exhaled, relieved that I didn’t need to break the news to him, but the sadness in his gaze was so heavy that I had to look away. Tomasz would have none of that. He slid his hands up over my shoulders and into my hair, then he cupped my cheek and he turned me to face him again. Our eyes met, and butterflies began to dance in my belly at the intensity of the love in his gaze.

“I know what your family has done for my sister, Alina, and how you saved her that day. I loved you before...you know I’ve always loved you, since before I even knew what that meant. But the way you have cared for her...” His voice broke a little, and he stopped, inhaled sharply, then continued unevenly, “If we weren’t already engaged, I’d propose to you right this moment.”

“And I’d say ‘yes’ again,” I whispered. I brushed my lips against his, but as he moved to kiss me properly again, I sat back a little. “Wait, Tomasz. Tell me about this ‘trouble.’ Who is after you? Is it the invaders?”