The Things We Cannot Say(42)

We sat like that for a long time, basked in a contented silence. For long minutes, I had everything I needed in the world again and I was happier than I could ever remember being. The shadow of reality loomed too soon, because as desperately as I wanted to, I couldn’t stay with him like that forever.

“I don’t know how I can leave you, but I can’t stay out much longer,” I whispered eventually. “If my parents notice me missing they will pay more attention tomorrow and I won’t be able to come see you again.”

“Don’t come see me again,” he said. I gasped and moved to argue, but he shook his head and pressed his finger against my lips. “It is too risky, Alina, it is a miracle that I even saw you tonight. But... God help me, I can’t stay away from you now. I will wait until it’s very late, and assuming it’s safe, I’ll come to your window instead, okay?”

“You will?”

“I will,” he promised, then he sighed. “I should not, but I will.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat at the reminder of the danger he was in, but he kissed me, and then gently disentangled our limbs. Then he rose and helped me to my feet, and we walked in silence back to the edge of the woods.

“I love you, Alina,” he murmured.

“I love you too. So very much,” I whispered.

We shared one last kiss in the moonlight before he gently propelled me toward the house. As I took my first few steps, he caught my hand and I turned back to stare at him. We slipped through time then, back through the hard years to the night of our proposal. For a heartbeat, I was that same spoiled girl I’d been before the war, and he was the muscular, cocky boy who had proposed to me. Somewhere in time, that was who we’d always be, and I felt the certainty of that in my bones.

“I can’t help but think that this is a miracle, Alina,” Tomasz whispered, his gaze scanning my face. “I can’t help but think that you finding me tonight was a gift from God. Maybe He can forgive me after all.”

The darkness was returning to his eyes. We had so much more to say to one another, and no time to even start the conversation.

“We will talk tomorrow, Tomasz,” I whispered. “Yes?”

He reluctantly released my hand, and his gaze darted to the field beyond me for a moment, then he whispered, “Sleep well, moje wszystko.”

“Be safe, Tomasz.”

The house was still silent when I climbed in my window. I pulled off my coat and shoes and climbed under the blankets, but even once I closed my eyes I resisted sleep.

Instead, I basked in the warm glow of something most remarkable—something almost miraculous. I was excited about his return, of course—but equally, I was relieved to welcome a glimpse of happiness and a glimmer of hope in my life again.



CHAPTER 12

Alice


I get up at 5:00 a.m. out of habit and not necessity on school days. I plan out Eddie’s visual calendar, lay out his clothing and then pack his school bag—the dreidel, which he’s still taking with him everywhere he goes, his stuffed Thomas the Tank Engine toy just in case he wants it, six Go-Gurts, one can of soup and six pairs of spare underpants, each with a matching ziplock bag for the inevitable accidents.

By the time I’ve prepared Eddie’s gear, it’s 6:00 a.m. and the house is still silent. I pour myself a cup of coffee and wander into the living room, where I turn the television on to a news channel, and then promptly zone out into the background noise. I look around the room, the endless books on the shelves and the dust on the windowsill I probably should address at some point.

This is my favorite room, and this house feels more like home to me than any other house I’ve ever lived in. We bought this place six years ago, when Wade got the first in a series of promotions. It’s not that we’re extravagantly wealthy—but he earns well above an average salary these days, and I can’t really get my head around how his bonus scheme works but it seems to bring in a lot of money. Something about performance indicators for the teams he manages and every few months he has a win at work, then there’s another large deposit into the account and Wade wants to drink champagne and I listen to him as he tries to explain it. I nod and smile, but I never really grasp it because I just don’t have a frame of reference for his world.

I’ve never had a job with performance indicators. The last job I had was tutoring freshman English majors at college. Even then, I just did it because everyone else I knew had a job, and I mostly spent the money on eating out or clothes. Mom and Dad were borderline obsessed with my education—and I guess that makes sense, with Mom’s career being the most important part of her life and Dad himself being an academic at the time. They were more than happy to support me financially throughout my college years.

I had a much easier time relying on my parents for money than I do my husband. I’m a confused mix of grateful, guilty and frustrated about the circumstances of my family every single day. But for our decision to have a family young and our decision that I should stay home long term once we realized that Eddie was not going to be your run-of-the-mill kid, I’d have a career too and things would be different.

But things aren’t different, and they have never seemed equal.

It’s not anything Wade does or says that makes me feel that way. Sometimes I wonder if I’d feel this uncomfortable about our situation if I’d set out to be a stay-at-home mom. Instead, that life just kind of happened to me, and now there are some days when this beautiful home is a little like a gilded cage.